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L I

OF THE MOST EMINENT

ENGLISH POETS

WITH

CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS

ON THEIR

WORKS.

By SAMUEL JOHNSON.

N E W EDITION, CORRECTED.

THE FOURTH VOLUME.

LONDON:

r«R e. BATHURST, j. BUCKLAND, w. STRAHAN, J:*IVJHC-

TON AND SONS, T.DAVIES, T. PAYNE, L. BA VIS, W.OWEN, B.WIUTK,

5. CROWDER, T. CASLON, T. LONGMAN, B. LAW, -JC. DILLT,

J. DODSLEY, J. WILKJE, J. ROBSON, J. Jo HNSON, T. LOWNDES,

G. KOBINSON, T. CADKI.I, J. NICHOLS, E. NEWBERV,

T.EVANS, P. ELMSLY, R. BALDWIN, G. NJCOL, LEIGH

AND SOTHEBY, J. BEW, V. CONANT, W. NICOLL,

J. MURRAY, «. HAYIS, W. FOX, AND J. BOWIN.

MDCCLXXXHI.

THE NEW YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTCR, LENOX AND
TILL ' DATIONS.

1907

• ••••• • 1 *

• * * I • . •

• » fc » •••* .

iii 3

CONTENTS

O F T H E

FOURTH VOLUME.

POPE, - - - p. i
PITT, ... 239
THOMSON, - - 245

WATTS, - 269

A. PHILIPS, - 285

WEST, - - 301

COLLINS, - 309

DYER, 318

SHENSTONE, - - 323

YOUNG, - 337

MALLET, - 423

AKENSIDE, 435

GREY, 447

LYTTELTON, - 470

a 2 POPE.

OPE.

A LEXANDER POPE was born in
jL\. London, May 22, 1688, of parents
whofe rank or ftation was never afcertained :
we are informed that they were of gentle
blood; that his father was of a family of
which the Earl of Downe was the head, and
that his mother was the daughter of William
Turner, Efquire, of York, who had like-
wife three ions, one of whom had the ho-
nour of being killed, and the other of dying.,
in the fervice of Charles the Firft -, the third
was made a general officer in Spain, from
whom the fitter inherited what fequeflrations
and forfeitures had left in the family.

VOL. IV. B This,

2 POPE.

This, and this only, is told by Pope; who
is more willing, as I have heard obferved,
to Ihew what his father was not, than what
he was.' It is allowed that he grew rich by
trade ; but whether in a mop or on the Ex-
change was never difcovered, till Mr. Tyers
told, on the authority of Mrs. Racket, that
he was a linen-draper in the Strand. Both
parents were papifls.

Pope was from his birth of a conftitu-
tion tender and delicate ; but is faid to have
ihewn remarkable gentlenefs and fweetnefs
of difpofition. The weaknefs of his body
continued through his life, but the mildnefs
of his mind perhaps ended with his child-
hood. His voice, when he was young, was
fo pleafing, that he was called in fondnefs
the little Nightingale.

Being not fent early to fchool, he was
taught to read by an aunt; and when he
was feven or eight years old, became a lover
of books. He firft learned to write by imi-
tating printed books ; a fpecies of pen man -
fhip in which he retained great excellence

through

POPE. 3

through his whole life, though his ordinary
hand was not elegant.

When he was about eight, he was placed
in H amp mire under Taverner, a Romifh
prieft, who, by a method very rarely prac-
tifed, taught him the Greek and Latin rudi-
ments together. He was now firft regularly
initiated in poetry by the perufal of Ogylby's
Homer, and Sandy s's Ovid: Ogylby's affift-
ance he never repaid with any praife -, but of
Sandys he declared, in his notes to the Iliad,
that Englifh poetry owed much of its prefent
beauty to his tranflations. Sandys very rare-
ly attempted original competition.

From the care of Taverner, under whom
his proficiency was confiderable, he was re-
moved to a fchool at Twvford near Winchef-

ter, and again to another fchool about Hyde-
park Corner j from which he ufed fometimes
to ftroll to the playhoufe, and was fo delighted
with theatrical exhibitions, that he formed a
kind of play from Ogylby's Iliad, with fome
verfes of his own intermixed, which he perfuad-
ed his fchoolfellows to a£t, with the addition
of his matter's gardener, who perfonated^/tf*1.

B 2 At

4 POPE.

A: the two lail ichcols he uied to repre-

fent bimfelf as h: Icit part cf what

..: bad taught him, and en his mailer

• t r'ord he hid Already exercifed his

poerrv in a kmpccn. Yet under thofe maf-

ters he :: : /-ted more than a fourth part cf

tru ; fi : T bofes. li he kept the lime pro-

porti-;.-. in h: ther exercifes, it cannot be

_ . : that his k . - great.

•

He tells of himfelf, in hi= poems, that be

.... : :.-.d ufed to lay that he

could not remember the time when he began

to make verfcs. In the ftvle of iiclion it

mi - been laid of him as of Pindar,

t when he I.. .. .• : >-.:-arv:-

td . '. . : . *b.

About the time of the Revolution his

•her, who was undoubtedly disappointed

by the fudden bkil of popilh profperity,

quitted his trade, ar.i retired to Binrleld in

Windfor Fort::, with about twenty thou-

i pounds 3 for which, being cc: .ti-

oufiv determined not to entruit it to the

•

go> -.-.-nt, he found no better uie than
that of lock::.,: it up in a cheil, and taking

from

POPE.

from itwhathii e ces required;

life wi; long enough to ._.:.......- - ...:

part cf it, before hh fen came to the in-
heritance.

To Binneld Pose was called bv his father

a. »

when he wa^ s.hc;.: twelve ve:-.r£ eld; ir.d
there he had for a fV.vmcnth: the :f::V.:.:e
cf one De^ne, ar.^'hrr prieft, of v.-hom he
learned only tocor.ftrue '. '..::'.. ;: 7: ,'. . ; Of-
Kov." Mr. Dc-ane c :nd, v/irh a

bey v/ho hid tr nilated fo much cf C\
feme months ever a fmall -art of T:>.~>;'': Of-

I * *J

f.cc:> it i: now vain to enquire.

Of a voutli fo fuccef'-fullv ernr loved, and

* * i *

fo confpicuoufly impr , a minute account

muil be naturally def.red ; but c uriofitv mo

« J •

be contented with ccnfufed, innperfe::, an
fometimes improbable intelligence. Pore,

nncinGr little advantage frcni external heir.

^^ •— .

refolded the icefonvara to direct himfelr, and

at twelve fcnr.ed a u-lan cf f:jdv \vhich he

i J

complct-d with iittk .ther incitement th_n
the - ': ef excellence.

Hi: primary and princirr.l c.irpofe was to
be apo^t, wkh whi h his father accidentally

6 POPE.

concurred, by propofingfubj efts, and obliging
him to correct his performances by many re-
vifals; after which the old gentleman, when he
\vas fatisfied, would fay, tbefe are good 'rhymes.

In his perufal of the Englim poets he foon
difUnguifhed the verification of Dryden,
\vhich he confidered as the model to be
fludied, and was imprelTed with fuch vene-
ration for his inftructer, that he perfuaded
fome friends to take him| to the coffee-houfe
which Dryden frequented, and pleafed him-
felf with having feen him.

Dryden died May i, 1701, fome days be-
fore Pope was twelve ; fo early mull: he there-
fore have felt the power of harmony, and the
zeal of genius. Who does not wifh that
Dryden could have known the value of the
homage that was paid him, and forefeen the
greatnefs of his young admirer ?

The earlieft of Pope's productions is his
Ode on Solitude, written before he was twelve,
in which there is nothing more than other
forward boys have attained, and which is
not equal to Cowley's performances at the
fame age.

His

POPE. 7

His time was now fpent wholly in reading
and writing. As he read the Clafficks, he
amufed himlelf with tranflating them; and
at fourteen made a veriion of the firir. book
of the ThebaiSy which, with fome revifion, he
afterwards publifhed. He rnuft have been at
this time, if he had no help, a confiderable
proficient in the Latin tongue.

By Dryden's Fables, which had then been
not long publifhed, and were much in the
hands of poetical readers, he was tempted to
try his own Ikill in giving Chaucer a more
famionable appearance, and put January and
May, and the Prologue of the Wife of Bath,
into modern Englim. He tranilated likewife
the Epiftle of Sappho to Phaon from Ovid, to
complete the veriion, which was before im-
perfect j and wrote fome other fmall pieces,
which he afterwards printed.

He fometimes imitated the Englim poets,
and profefled to have written at fourteen his
poem upon Silence, after Rochefter's Nothing.
He had now formed his verification, and in
the fmoothnefs of his numbers furpaiTed his
original : but this is a fmall part of his

B 4 praife;

8 POPE.

praife ; he difcovers fuch acquaintance both
with human life and public affairs, as is not
eafily conceived to have been attainable by a
boy of fourteen in Windfor Fore/I,

Next year he was defirous of opening to
himfelf new fources of knowledge, by mak-
ing himfelf acquainted with modern lan-
guages ; and removed for a time to London,
that he might ftudy French and Italian, which,
as he defi red nothing more than to read them,
were by diligent application foon difpatched.
Of Italian learning he does not appear to
have ever made much ufe in his fubiequent
ftudies.

He then returned to Binfield, and delighted
himfelf with -his own poetry. He tried all
cyles, and many fubje&s. He wrote a comedy,
a tragedy, an epick poem, with panegy ricks
on all the princes of Europe; and, as he con-
feffes, thought himfelf the great eft genius that
ever was. Self-confidence is the firil requi-
fite to great undertakings; he, indeed, who
forms his opinion of himfelf in folitude,
without knowing the powers of other men,
is very liable to errour ; but it was the fe-
2 Hcity

POPE. 9

Lcity of Pope to rate himfelf at his real
value.

Moft of his puerile productions were, by
his maturer judgement, afterwards deflroyed;
Alcander, the epick poem, was burnt by the
perfuafion of Atterbury. The tragedy was
founded on the legend of St. Genevieve. Of
jhe comedy there is no account.

Concerning his ftudies it is related, that he
tranflated Tully on old Age >, and that, bciides
his books of poetry and criticifm, he read
'Temple's EJ/ays and Locke on human Under-
jlanding. His reading, though his favourite
authors are not known, appears to have been
fufficiently extenfive and multifarious ; for
his early pieces ihew, with fufficient evi-
dence, his knowledge of books.

He that is pleafed with himfelf, eafily ima-
gines that he man pleafe others. Sir Wil-
liam Trumbal, who had been ambaflador at
Constantinople, and fecretary of ftate, when
he retired from buimefs, fixed his refidencc
in the neighbourhood of Binfield. Pope, not
vet fixteen, was introduced to the flatefman

POPE.

of fixty, and fo diftinguifhed himfelf, that
their interviews ended in friendship and cor-
refpondence. Pope was, through his whole
life, ambitious of fplendid acquaintance, and
he feems to have wanted neither diligence nor
fuccefs in attracting the notice of the great s
for from his firfl entrance into the world, and
his entrance was very early, he was admitted
to familiarity with thofe whofe rank or ftation
made them moft confpicuous.

From the age of fixteen the life of Pope,
as an author, may be properly computed.
He now wrote his paftorals, which were fhewn
to the Poets and Criticks of that time ; as
they well deferved, they were read with ad-
miration, and many praifes were beftowed
upon them and upon the Preface, which is
both elegant and learned in a high degree :
they were, however, not published till five
years afterwards.

Cowley, Milton, and Pope, are diftin-
guifhed among the Englim Poets by the early
exertion of their powers ; but the works of
Cowley alone were publifhed in his childhood,
and therefore of him only can it be certain

that

POPE. ii

that his puerile performances received no im-
provement from his maturer ftudies.

At this time began his acquaintance with
Wycherley, a man who feerns to have had
among his contemporaries his full mare of
reputation, to have been efteemed without
virtue, and careffed without good-humour.
Pope was proud of his notice; Wycherley
wrote verfes in his praife, which he was charged
by Dennis with writing to himfelf, and they
agreed for a while to flatter one another. It
is pleafant to remark how foon Pope learned
the cant of an author, and began to treat
criticks with contempt, though he had yet
fuffered nothing from them.

But the fondnefs of Wycherley was too
violent to laft. His efteem of Pope was fuch,
that he fubmitted fome poems to his revifion;
and when Pope, perhaps proud of fuch con-
fidence, was fufficiently bold in his criticifms,
and liberal in his alterations, the old fcribbler
was angry to fee his pages defaced, and felt
more pain from the detection than content
from the amendment of his faults. They
parted 5 but Pope always conlidereU him with

kincinefs,

12 POPE.

kindnefs, and viiited him a little time before
he died.

Another of his early correfpondents was
Mr. Cromwell, of whom I have learned no-
thing particular but that he ufed to ride
a-hunting in a tye-wig. He was fond, and
perhaps vain, of amufing himfelf with po-
etry and criticifm ; and fometimes fent his
performances to Pope, who did not forbear
fuch remarks as were now-and-then unwel-
come. Pope, in his turn, put the juvenile
verfion of Statins into his hands for cor-
rection.

Their correfpondence afforded the publick
its firft knov/ledge of Pope's Epiilolary Pow-
ers; for his Letters were given by Cromwell
to one Mrs. Thomas, and fhe many years af-
terwards fold them to Curll, who inferted
them in a volume of his Mifcellanies.

Walih, a name yet preferved among the
minor poets, was one of his nrfr. encouragers.
His regard was gained by the Paftorals, and
from him Pope received the council by which
he feems to have regulated his ftudies . Walfh

ad vi feel

POPE. n

\jt

advifcd him to correctnefs, which, as he told
him, the Englim poets had hitherto ne-
glecled, and which therefore was left to him
as a bails of fame ; and, being delighted with
rural poems, -recommended to him to write
a paftoral comedy, like thofe which are read
fo eagerly in Italy ; a defign which Pope
probably did not approve, as he did not fol-
low it.

Pope had now declared himfelf a poet ;
and, thinking himfelf entitled to poetical
converfation, began at feventeen to frequent
Will's, a coffee-houfe on the north fide of
RurTel-ftreet in Covent-garden, where the
wits of that time ufed to allemble, and where
Dryden had, when he lived, been accuftom-
ed to prefide.

During this period of his life he was inde-
fatigably diligent, and infatiably curious ;
wanting health for violent, and money for
-expeniive pleafures, and having certainly ex-
cited in himfelf very ilrong defires of in-
tellectual eminence, he fpent much of his
time over his books ; but he read only to
ftore his mind with fad:s and images, feizin?

O ' O

all

14 POPE.

all that his authors prefented with undiftin-
guifhing voracity, and with an appetite for
knowledge too eager to be nice. In a mind
like his, however, all the faculties were at
once involuntarily improving. Judgement is
forced upon us by experience. He that reads
many books muft compare one opinion or
one ftyle with another ; and when he com-
pares, muft necefiarily diftinguifh, reject, and
prefer. But the account given by himfelf
of his ftudies was, that from fourteen to
twenty he read only for amufement, from
twenty to twenty-feven for improvement and
inftruction ; that in the firft part of this
time he delired only to know, and in the
fecond he endeavoured to judge.

The Paftorals, which had been for fomc
time handed about among poets and criticks,
were at laft printed (1709) in Tonfon's Mif-
cellany, in a volume which began with the
Paftorals of Philips, and ended with thofe of
Pope.

The fame year was written the Effay on

Criticifm •> a work which difplays fuch extent

of comprehenfion, fuch nicety of diftinftion,

6 fuch

POPE. 15

fuch acquaintance with mankind, and fuch
knowledge both of ancient and modern learn-
ing, as are not often attained by the matureft
age and longeft experience. It was published
about two years afterwards, and being praifed
by Addifon in the Spectator with fufficient
liberality, met with fo much favour as en-
raged Dennis, " who," he fays, " found
" himfelf attacked, without any manner of
" provocation on his iide, and attacked in his
" perfon, inftead of -his writings, by one who
" was wholly a ftranger to him, at a time
<s when all the world knew he was perfecuted
by fortune; and not only faw that this was
attempted in a clandeiline manner, with
the utmofl falfehood and calumny, but
found that all this was done by a little af-
fected hypocrite, who had nothing in his
" mouth at the fame time but truth, can-
" dour, friendmip, good-natufe, humanity,
" and magnanimity."

How the attack was clandeftine is riot eafily
perceived, nor how his perfon is depreciated -y
but he feems to have known fomething of
Pope's character, in whom may be difcovered

f C

16 POPE.

an appetite to talk too frequently of his awn
virtues.

The pamphlet is fuch as rage might be ex-
pected to dictate. He fuppofes himfelf to
be afked two queftions ; whether the Eflay
will fucceed, and who or what is the author.

Its iuccefs he admits to be fecured by the
falfe opinions then prevalent ; the author he
concludes to be young and raw.

" Firil, becaufe he difcovers a fufHciency
" beyond his little ability, and hath ralhiy
" undertaken a talk infinitely above his force.
" Secondly, while this little author ftruts,
" and affects the dictatorial! air, he plainly
" ihews that at the fame time he is under the
" rod ; and while he pretends to give law to
*' others, is a pedantick Have to authority and
*£ opinion. Thirdly, he hath, like fchool-
" boys, borrowed both from living and dead.
" Fourthly, he knows not his own mind, and
<s frequently contradicts himfelf. Fifthly, he
** is ahnolt perpetually in the wrong."

All thefe poiitions he attempts to prove by
quotations and remarks ; but his defire to do

mifchief

POPE. 17

mifchief is greater than his power. He has,
however, juftly criticifed fome pafTages, in
thefe lines,

There are whom heaven has blefs'd with (lore of

wit,

Yet want as much again to manage it ;
For wit and judgment ever are at ftrife—

it is apparent that ivtt has two meanings, and
that what is wanted, though called wif, is
truly judgment. So far Dennis is undoubt-
edly right ; but, not content with argument,
he will have a little mirth, and triumphs over
the firft couplet in terms too elegant to be
forgotten. " By the way, what rare num-
** bers are here ! Would not one fwear that
this youngfter had efpoufed fome antiquated
Mufe, who had fued out a divorce on ac-
count of impotence from fome fuperan-
nuated iinner ; and, having been p — xed
by her former fpoufe, has got the gout in
her decrepit age, which makes her hobble
fo damnably." This was the man who
would reform a nation finking into barbarity.

In another place Pope himfelf allowed that

Dennis had detected one of thofe blunders

VOL. IV. C which

<c
<c

i8 P O P E.

which are called bulls. The firfl edition had
this line :

What is this wit —

Where wanted, fcorn'd ; and envied where
acquired ?

: How," lays the critick, "can wi
tf where it is not ? Is not this a figure fre-
" quently employed in Hibernian land ? The
<{ perfon that wants this wit may indeed be
•*' fcorned, but the fcorn mews the honour
" which the contemner has for wit." Of this
remark Pope made the proper ufe, by cor-
reding the paiTage.

I have preferved, I think, ail that is reafon-
able in Dennis's criticifm ; it remains that
jnftice be done to his delicacy. " For his ac-
** quaintance (fays Dennis) he names Mr,
** Wai (li, who had by no means the qualifi-
*' cation which this author reckons abfolutely
•" necefTary to a critick, it being very certain
*' that he was, like this EiTayer, a very indif-
" ferent poet; he loved to be well-dreiled ;
fc and I remember a little' young gentleman
*' whom Mr. Walih ufed to take into his
" company, as a double foil to his perion and

" capacity,

OPE, I9

"' capacity. --Enquire between Sttnmti,ghillw\&
tsc Oakmgham for a young, fhort, fquab gen-
" tleman, the very bow of the God of Love,
" and tell me whether he be a proper author
** to make perfonal reflections ? — He mav
*' extol the antients, but he has reafon to
" thank the gods that he was bom a modern $
i( for had he been born of Grecian parents,
*' and his father confequently had -by law had
'-' the abfolute difpofal of him, his life had
" been no longer than that of one of his
" poems, the life of half a day. — Let the
et perfon of a gentleman of his parts be ne-
" ver fo contemptible, his inward man is ten
*' times more ridiculous j it being impofftble
*' that his outward form, though it be that
<f of downright monkey, mould differ fo
" much from human fliape, as his unthink^
" ing immaterial part does from human un«
** demanding." Thus began the hoftility
between Pope and Dennis, which, though it
was fufpended for a fhort time, never was
appeafed. Pope feems, at firil, to have at-
tacked him wantonly; but though he always
profeficd to defpife him, he difcovers, by
mentioning him very often, that he felt his
force or his venom.

C 2 Of

POPE,

Of this EfTay Pope declared that he did
not expecl: the fale to be quick, becaufe not
one gentleman infixty, even of liberal education y
could underjlandit. The gentlemen, and the
education of that time, feem to have been of
a lower character than they are of this. He
mentioned a thoufand copies as a numerous
impreffion.

Dennis was not his only cenfurer; the
zealous papifts thought the monks treated
with too much contempt, and Erafmus too
ftudioufly praifed j but to thefe objections he
had not much regard.

The Effay has been tranflated into French
by Hamilton, author of the Comte de Gram-
mont, whofe verfion was never printed, by
Robot ham y fecretary to the King for Hanover,
and by Refnel ; and commented by Dr. War-
burton, who has difcovered in it fuch order
and connection as was not perceived by Addi-
fon, nor, as is faid, intended by the author.

Almofl every poem, confirming of precepts,
Is fo far arbitrary and immethodical, that

many

POPE. 21

many of the paragraphs may change places
with no apparent inconvenience ; for of two
or more pontions, depending upon fome re-
mote and general principle, there is feldom
any cogent reafon why one mould precede the
other. But for the order in which they ftand,
whatever it be, a little ingenuity may eafily
give a reafon. If ispoj/ible, fays Hooker, that
by long circumduftion, from any one truth all
truth may be inferred. Of all homogeneous
truths at leafr, of all truths refpeding the
fame general end, in whatever feries they may
be produced, a concatenation by intermediate
ideas may be formed, fuch as, when it is once
fhewn, mall appear natural j but if this or-
der be reverfed, another mode of connection
equally fpecious may be found or made.
Ariftotle is praifed for naming Fortitude firrt
of the cardinal virtues, as that without which
no other virtue can fteadily be practifed j but
he might, with equal propriety, have placed
Prudence and Juftice before it, fince without
Prudence Fortitude is mad j without Juftice,
it is mifchievous.

As the end of method is perfpicuity, that
feries is fufliciently regular that avoids ob-

C 3 fcurityj

POPE.

fcurity -, and where there is no obfcurity it
will not be difficult to difcover method.

In the Spectator was published
which he firft fubmitted to the perulal of
Steele, and corrected in compliance with his
criticifms.

It is reasonable to infer, from his Letters,
that the verfes on the Unfortunate Lady were
written about the time when his EJ/ay was
published. The Lady's name and adventures
I have fought with fruitlefs enquiry.

I can therefore tell no more than I have
learned from Mr. RufFhead, who writes with
the confidence of one who could trufl his
information. She was a woman of eminent
rank and large fortune, the ward of an unkle,
who, having given her a proper education,
expected like other guardians that ihe mould
make at leaft an equal match -t and fuch he pro-
pofed to her, but found it rejected in favour of
a young gentleman of inferior condition.

Having difcovered the correfpondence be-
tween the two lovers, and finding the young

lady

POPE. 23

lady determined to abide by her own choice,
he fuppofed that feparation might do what
can rarely be done by arguments, and fent
her into a foreign country, where The was
obliged to converfe only with thole from
whom her unkle had nothing to fear.

Her lover took care to repeat his vows -,
but his letters were intercepted and carried
to her guardian, who directed her to be
watched with fliJl greater vigilance ; till of
this reftraint me grew fo impatient, that me
bribed a woman-fervant to procure her a
fword, which me directed to her heart.

From this account, given with evident in-
tention to raife the Lady's character, it does
not appear that me had any claim to praife,
nor much to companion. She feems to have
been impatient, violent, and ungovernable,
Her unkle's power could not have lailed long;
the hour of liberty and choice would have come
in time. But her defires were too hot for delay,
and me liked felf-murder better than fufpence.

Nor is it difcovered that the unkle, who-
ever he was, is with much jufrice delivered

C 4 to

24 POPE.

to poflerity as zfalfe Guardian ; he feems to
have done only that for which a guardian is
appointed; he endeavoured to direct his niece
till me fhould be able to direcl herfelf. Po-
etry has not often been worfe employed than
in dignifying the amorous fury of a raving

Not long after, he wrote the Rape of the
Lock, the moft airy, the moft ingenious, and
the moil delightful of all his compofitions,
occafioned by a frolick of gallantry, rather
too familiar, in which Lord Petre cut off a
lock of Mrs . Arabella Fermor's hair. This,
whether flealth or violence, was fo much re-
fented, that the commerce of the two fami-
lies, before very friendly, was interrupted.
Mr. Caryl, a gentleman who, being fecretary
to King James's Queen, had followed his
Miftrefs into France, and who being the au-
thor of Sir Solomon Single, a comedy, and
fome tranflations, was entitled to the notice
of a Wit, folicited Pope to endeavour a re-
conciliation by a ludicrous poem, which might
bring both the parties to a better temper. In
compliance with Caryl's requeft, though his
name was for a long time marked only by

the

POPE. 25

the firft and laft letter, C— -1, a poem of two
cantos was written (1711), as is faid, in a
fortnight, and fent to the offended Lady,
who liked it well enough to fhew it ; and,
with the ufual procefs of literary tranfao
tions, the author, dreading a furreptitious
edition, was forced to publifh it.

The event is faid to have been fuch as was
defired -y the pacification and diverfion of all
to whom it related, except Sir George Brown,
who complained with fome bitternefs that,
in the character of Sir Plume, he was made
to talk nonfenle. Whether all this be true,
I have fome doubt 5 for at Paris, a few years
ago, a niece of Mrs. Fermor, who prefided
in an Englifh Convent, mentioned Pope's
work with very little gratitude, rather as an
infult than an honour ; and me may be fup-
pofed to have inherited the opinion of her
family.

At its firft appearance it was termed by
Addifon merumfal. Pope, however, faw that
it was capable of improvement ; and, having
luckily contrived to borrow his machinery
from the Rojicnirians, imparted the fcheme

with

26 POPE.

with which his head was teeming to Addifon,
who told him that his work, as it flood, was
& delicious little thing, and gave him no en-
couragement to retouch it.

This has been too haitily considered as an
inftance of Addifon's jealoufyj for as he
cauld not guefs the conduct of the new de-
fign, or the poflibilities of pleafure comprif-
ed in a fiction of which there had been no
examples, he might very reafonably and
kindly perfuade the author to acquiefce in his
own profperity, and forbear an attempt which
he confidered as an unneceiTary hazard.

Addifon's counfel was happily rejected.
Pope forefaw the future efflorefcence of ima-
gery then budding in his mind, and refolved
to fpare no art, or induftry of cultivation.
The foft luxuriance of his fancy was already
fhooting, and all the gay varieties of dic-
tion were ready at his hand to colour and
embellim it.

His attempt was juiliiied by its fuccefs.
The Rape of the Lock {lands forward, in the
claiTes of literature, as the moft exquifite

example

POPE. 27

example of ludicrous poetry. Berkeley con-
gratulated him upon the difplay of powers
more truly poetical than he had (hewn be-
fore ; with elegance of defcription and juft-
nefs of precepts, he had now exhibited bound-
lefs fertility of invention.

lie always confidered the intermixture of
the machinery with the action as his mofl
fuccefsful exertion of poetical art. He in-
deed could never afterwards produce any
thing of fuch unexampled excellence. Thofe
performances, which ilrike with wonder, are
combinations of fkilful genius with happy
cafualty ; and it is not likely that any feli-
city, like the difcovery of a new race of pre-
ternatural agents, mould happen twice to the
fame man.

Of this poem the author was, I think, al-
lowed to enjoy the praife for a long time
without diflurbance. Many years afterwards
Dennis publifhed fome remarks upon it,
with very little force, and with no effect;
for the opinion of the publick was already
fettled, and it was no longer at the mercy of
criticifm.

About

POPE.

About this time he published the Temple
of Fame, which, as he tells Steele in their
correfpondence, he had written two years
before ; that is, when he was only twenty-
two years old, an early time of life for fo
much learning and fo much obfervation as
that work exhibits.

On this poem Dennis afterwards publim-
cd fome remarks, of which the moft reafon-
able is, that fome of the lines reprefent mo-
tion as exhibited by fculpture.

Of the Epiftle from Eloifa to Abelard, I
do not know the date. His firft inclination
to attempt a compofition of that tender kind
arofe, as Mr. Savage told me, from his pe-
rufal of Prior's Nut-brown Maid. How much
he has furpafled Prior's work it is not necef-
fary to mention, when perhaps it may be
faid with juftice, that he has excelled every
compofition of the fame kind. The mixture
of religious hope and refignation gives an
elevation and dignity to difappointed love,
which images merely natural cannot bellow.
The gloom of a convent {hikes the imagina-

tion

POPE. 29

tion with far greater force than the folitudc
of a grove.

This piece was, however, not much his
favourite in his latter years, though I never
heard upon what principle he flighted it.

In the next year ( 1 7 1 3) he published Wind-
for For eft ,- of which part was, as he relates,
written at fixteen, about the fame time as his
Paftorals, and the latter part was added after-
wards : where the addition begins, we are not
told. The lines relating to the Peace confefs
their own date. It is dedicated to Lord Lanf-
downe, who was then high in reputation and
influence among the Tories ; and it is faid,
that the conclulion of the poem gave great
pain to Addifon, both as a poet and a politi-
cian. Reports like this are often fpread with
boldnefs very difproportionate to their evi-
dence. Why mould Addifon receive any par-
ticular difturbance from the laft lines of
Windfor Fore/I ? If contrariety of opinion
could poifon a politician, he would not live
a day; and, as a poet, he muft have felt Pope's
force of genius much more from many other
parts of his works,

The

^ POPE,

The pain that Addifon might feel it is not
likely that he would confefs ; and it is certain
that he fo well fuppreffed his difcontent, that
Pope now thought himfelf his favourite « for
having been confulted in the revifal of Cato*
he introduced it by a Prologue j and, when
Dennis published his Remarks, undertook
not indeed to vindicate but to revenge his
friend, by a Narrative of the Frenzy of John
Dennis,

There is reafon to believe that Addifon gavd
no encouragement to this diiingenuous hofli-
lityj for, fays Pope, in a Letter to him,
" indeed your opinion, that 'tis entirely to be
1 neglecled, would be my own in my own
" cafe 3 but I felt more warmth here than I
" did when I firft faw his book againft my-
" felf (though indeed in two minutes it
'* made me heartily merry)." Addifon was
not a man on whom fuch cant of fenfibility
could make much impreffion. He left the
pamphlet to it felf, having difowned it to
Dennis, and perhaps did not think Pope to
have deferved much by his ofiicioufnefs.

4 This

POPE. 31

This year was printed in the Guardian the
ironical companion between the Paftorals of
Philips and Pope; a competition of artifice,
criticifm, and literature, to which nothing
equal will esfily be found. The fuperiority
of Pope is fo ingeniouily dhTembled, and the
feeble lines of Philips fo fkilfully preferred,
that Stecle, being deceived, was unwilling to
print the paper left Pope fliould be offended,
Addifon immediately faw the writer's deiign;
and, as it feems, had malice enough to con-
ceal his difcovery, and to permit a publica-
tion which, by making his friend Philips
ridiculous, made him for ever an enemy to
Pope.

It appears that about this time Pope had
a ftrong inclination to unite the art of Paint-
ing with that of Poetry, and put himfei'f
under the tuition of Jerv^s. He was near-
lighted, and therefore not formed by nature
for a painter : he tried, however, how far he
could advance, and fometimes perfuaded his
friends to fit. A picture cf Bcttercon, fup-
poicd to be drawn by him-, was in the'pof-
feffion of Lord Mansfield : if this w^s taken

from

32 POPE.

from the life, he mufl have begun to paint
earlier; for Betterton was now dead. Pope's
ambition of this new art produced fome en*
comiaftick verfes to Jervas, which certainly
fhew his power as a poet, but I have been
told that they betray his ignorance of paint-
ing.

He appears to have regarded Betterton with
kindnefs and efteem ; and after his death
published, under his name, a verfion into
modern Englifh of Chaucer's Prologues, and
one of his Tales, which, as was related by
Mr. Harte, were believed to have been the per-
formance of Pope himfelf by Fenton, who
made him a gay offer of five pounds, if he
would {hew them in the hand of Betterton.

The next year (1713) produced a bolder
attempt, by which profit was fought as well
as praife. The poems which he had hitherto
written, however they might have difTufed his
name, had made very little addition to his
fortune. The allowance which his father
made him, though, proportioned to what he
had, it might be liberal, could not be large ;
his religion hindered him from the occupation
i of

POPE. 33

6fany civil employment, and he complained
that he wanted even money to buy books*.

He therefore refolved to try how far the
favour of the publick extended, by foliciting a
fubfcription to a verfion of the Iliad, with

large notes 4

To print by fubfcription was, for fome
time, a practice peculiar to the Englifli. The
firil confiderable work for which this expedi-
ent was employed is faid to have been Dry den's
Virgil', and it had been tried again with great
fuccefs when the tfatfers were collected into
volumes.

There was reafon to believe that Pope's at-
tempt would be fuccefsful. He was in the
full bloom of reputation, and was perfonally
known to almoft all whom dignity of em-
ployment or fplendour of reputation had made
eminent; he con verfed indifferently with both
parties, and never diilurbed the publick with
his political opinions ; and it might be natu-
rally expected, as each faction then boafted
its literary zeal, that the great men, who on

* Spence.

VOL, IV. D ether

34 POP E,

other occafions practifed all the violence of
oppofition, would emulate each other irr
their encouragement of a poet who had de-
lighted all, and by whom none had been
offended.

With thofe hopes, he offered an Engliih
Iliad to fubfcribers, in fix volumes in quarto,
for fix guineas ; a fum, according to the
value of money at that time, by no means
inconfiderable, and greater than I believe to
have been ever afked before. His propofal,
however, was very favourably received, and
the patrons of literature were bufy to recom-
mend his undertaking, and promote his in-
t'ereil. Lord Oxford, indeed, lamented that
fuch a genius mould be wafted upon a work
not original ; but propofed no means by which
lie might live without it : Addifbn recom-
mended caution and moderation, and advifed
him not to be content with die praife of half
the nation, when he might be universally fa-
voured.

The greatnefs of the defign, the popularity
of the author, and the attention of the literary \
world, naturally raifed fuch, expectations of j

the

POPE. 35

the future fale, that the bookfellcrs made their
offers with great eagernefs ; but the highefh
bidder was Bernard Lintdf, who became pro-
prietor on condition of fupplying, at his own
expence, all the copies which were to be de-
livered to fubfcribers, or prefented to friends,
and paying two hundred pounds for every
volume.

Of the Quartos it was, I believe, flipulated
that none mould be printed but for the au-
thor, that the fubfcription might not be de-
preciated; but LintotimprefTed the fame pages
upon a fmall Folio, and paper perhaps a lit-
tle thinner ; and fold exactly at half the
price, for half a guinea each volume> books
ib little inferior to the Quartos, that, by a
fraud of trade, thofe Folios, being afterwards
fhortened by cutting away the top and bot-
tom, were fold as copies printed for the fub-
fcribers.

Lintot printed two hundred and fifty on
royal paper in Folio for two guineas a volume;
of the fmall Folio, having printed feventeen
hundred and fifty copies of the firft volume,
he reduced the number in the other volumes
to a thoufand.

D 2 It

;;{» POPE.

It is unpleafant to relate that the book-
feller, after all his hopes and all his liberality,
was, by a very unjufl and illegal action, de-
frauded of his profit. An edition of the
Englim Iliad was printed in Holland in Du-
odecimo, and imported clandeftinely for the
gratification of thofe who were impatient to
read what they could not yet afford to buy.
This fraud could only be counteracted by an
edition equally cheap and more commodious;
and Lintot was compelled tocontracthis Folio
at once into a Duodecimo, and lofe the ad-
vantage of an intermediate gradation. The
notes, which in the Dutch copies were placed
at the end of each book, as they had been in
the large volumes, were now fubjoined to the
text in the fame page, and are therefore more'
eafily confulted. Of this edition two thou-
fand five hundred were firft printed, and five
thoufand a few weeks afterwards 3 but indeed
great numbers were necefTary to produce con-
fiderable profit.

Pope, having now emitted his propofals,
and engaged not only his own reputation, but
in fome degree that of his friends who pa-
tronifed his fubfcription, began to be frighted

POPE. 37

at his own undertaking ; and finding himfelf
at firft embarrafled with difficulties, which
retarded and opprefTed him, he was for a time
timorous and uneafy; had his nights diflurbed
by dreams of long journeys through unknown
ways, and wimed, as hs faid, that fomebcdy
would hang him *.

This mifery, however, was not of long
continuance ; he grew by degrees more ac-
quainted with Homer's images and expref-
fions, and practice increafed his facility of
verification. In a fhort time he reprefents
himfelf as difpatching regularly fifty veriest
day, which would mew him by an eafy com?
putation the termination of his labour.

His own diffidence was not his only vexa-
tion. He that afks a fubfcription foon finds
that he has enemies. All who do not en-
courage him defame him. He that wants
money will rather be thought angry than
poor, and he that wifhes to lave his money
conceals his avarice by his malice. Addifon
had hinted his fufpicion that Pope was too
much a Tory -3 and fome of the Tories fuf-

* Spence.

D 3

POPE,

pected his principles becaufe he had contrn
buted to the Guardian., which was carried on
by Steele.

To thofe who cenfured his politicks were
added enemies yet more dangerous, who call-
ed in queftion his knowledge of Greek, and
his qualifications for a tranflator of Homer.
To thefe he made no publick oppofi tion >y but
in one of his Letters efcapes from them as*
well as he can. At an age like his, for he
was not more than twenty-five, with an irr
regular education, and a courfe of life of
which much feerns to have paffed in conver-
fation, it is not very likely that he overflow-
ed with Greejs. But when he felt himfelf
deficient he fought affiftance • and what man
of learning would refufe to help him ? Mi-
nute enquiries into the force of wrords are
lefs neceiTary in tran ilating Homer than other
poets, becaufe his pofitions are general, and
his reprefentations natural, with very little
dependence on local or temporary cuftoms,
on thofe changeable fcenes of artificial life,
which, by mingling original with accidental
notions, and crowding the mind with images
which time effaces, produce ambiguity in
2 diction.,

POP

didlion, and obfcurity in books. To this
open difplay of unadulterated nature it inuft
be afcribed, that Homer has fewer paiTages of
doubtful meaning than any other poet either
in the learned or in modern languages. I
have read of a man, who being, by his
ignorance of Greek, compelled to gratify
his curiofity with the Latin printed on the
oppoiite page, declared that from the rude
fimplicity of the lines literally rendered, he
formed nobler ideas of the Homeric majeily
than from the laboured elegance of polifhed
verlions.

Thofe literal tranflations were always at
hand, and from them he could eafily obtain
his author's fenfe with fufficient certainty;
and among the readers of Homer the number
is very fmall of thofe who find much in the
Greek more than in the Latin, except the
mufick of the numbers.

Jf more help was wanting, he had the
poetical tranilation of Eobanus Hcjfus, an un-
wearied writer of Latin verfes ; he had the
French Homers of La Valterie and Dacier,
and the Englim of Chapman., Hobbes, and

D 4 Ogylby.

40 P O P ET

Qgylhy. Wjth Chapman, whofe work, thougl}
now totally neglected, feems to have been
popular almoft to the end of the laft century,
he had very frequent confultations, and per-
haps never tranflated any pafTage till he had
read his verfion, which indeed he has been
fometimes fufpedted of ufing inftead of the
original.

Notes were likewife to be provided ; for
the fix volumes would have been very little
more than fix pamphlets without them. What
the mere perufal of the text could fuggeft,
Pope wanted no affiftance to colled; or me-
thodize; but more was neceflary ; many^
pages were to be filled, and learning mud
fupply materials to wit and judgment. Some-
thing might be gathered from Dacier; but
no man loves to be indebted to his contem-
poraries, and Dacier was acceffible to com-
mon readers. Euilathius was therefore ne-
cefTarily confulted. To read Euftathius, of
whofe work there was then no Latin verfion, I
fufpect Pope, if he had been willing, not to
have been able; forne other was therefore
to be found, who had leifure as well as
abilities, and he was doubtlefs moft readi-

P O P

iy employed who would do much work for
Jittle money,

The hiflory of the notes has sever been
traced. Broome, in his preface to his poems.,
declares himfelf the commentator in part upon
{he Iliad; and it appears from Fenton's Letter,
preferred in the Mufeum, that Broome was at
firft engaged in confultingEuftathiusj but that
after a time, whatever was the reafon, he deiiit-
ed: another man of Cambridge was them em-
ployed, who foon grew weary of the work ; and
a third, that was recommended by ^Tbirlby, is
pow difcovered to have been Jorti/i, a man
iince well known to the learned world, who
complained that Pope, having accepted ;\ i
approved his performance, never teftified any
curioiity to fee him, and who profeiTed to have
forgotten the terms on which he worked.

terms which Fenton ufes are very mer-
cantile : / think &t firft Jigbt that his perfor-
mance is very commendable, and have fent word
for him to Jinijh the i jth book, and to fend it
'With his demands for his trouble. I have here
endofed the fpccimen -, if the reft cowe before
the return, I will keep them till I receive
your order.

Broome

42 POPE.

Broome then offered his fervice a fecond
time, which was probably accepted, as they
had afterwards a clofer correfpondence. Par-
nell contributed the Life of Homer, which
Pope found fo harm, that he took great pains
in correcting it ; and by his own diligence, with
fuch help as kindnefs or money could procure
him, in fome what more than five years he com-
pleted his verfion of the Iliad t with the notes.
He began it in 1712, his twenty-fifth year,
and concluded it in 1718, his thirtieth year.

When we find him tranflating fifty lines a
day, it is natural to fuppofe that he would
have brought his work to a more fpeedy con-
clufion. The Iliad, containing lefs than fix-
teen fhoufand verfes, might have been de-
fpatched in lefs than three hundred and twenty
days by fifty verfes in a day. The notes, com-
piled with the affiftance of his mercenaries,
could not be fuppofed to require more time
than the text. According to this calculation,
the progrefs of Pope may leem to have been
flow; but the dirtance is commonly very great
between actual performances and fpeculative
poffibility. It is natural to fuppofe, that as

much

POPE. 43

much as has been done to-day may be done to-
morrow -, but on the morrow foine difficulty
emerges, or fome external impediment ob-
ftrucls. Indolence, interruption, bufmefs, and
pleafure, all take their turns of retardation -t
and every long work is lengthened by a thou-
fandcaufes that can, and ten thoufand that can-?
not, be recounted. Perhaps no exteniive and
multifarious performance was ever effected
within the term originally fixed in the under-
taker's mind. He that runs again ft Time,
Jias an antagonift not fubjecl: to casualties.

The encouragement given to this tranfla-
tion, though report feems to have over-rated
it, was fuch as the world has not often feen.
The fubfcribers were five hundred and feventy-
five. The copies for which fubfcriptions were
given were fix hundred and fifty-four; and
only fix hundred and fixty were printed. For
thofe copies Pope had nothing to pay; he
therefore received, including the two hundred
rounds a volume, five thoufand three hundred
and twenty pounds four millings, without de-
diictionaas the books were fupplied byLintot.

By the fuccefs of his fubfcription Pope was
relieved from thofc pecuniary diftrefTes with

which,

44 POP E.

which, notwithftanding his popularity, he
had hitherto ftruggled. Lord Oxford had
often lamented his difqualification for pub-
lick employment, but never propofed a pen-
iion. While the translation of Homer was in
its progrefs, Mr. Craggs, then fecretary of
ftate, offered to procure him a penfion, which,
at leafl during his miniftry, might be enjoyed
with iecrecy . This was not accepted by Pope,
who told him, however, that, if he mould be
preiled with want of money, he would fend
to him for occafional fupplies. Craggs was
not long in power, and was never folicited
for money by Pope, who difdained to be^
what he did not want.

With the product of this fubfcription,
which he had too much difcretion to fquander,
he fecured his future life from want, by coniir-
derable annuities. The eftate of the Duke
of Buckingham was found to have been
charged with five hundred pounds a year,
payable to Pope, which doubtlefs his tranila*
tion enabled him to purchafe,

It cannot be unwelcome to literary curiofiry,
that I deduce thus minutely the hiitory of the

Englifh

P O P B. 45

Encrlilh Iliad. It is certainly the nobleft

veriion of poetry which the world has ever
ieen ; and its publication mud therefore be
confidered as one of the great events in the
annals of Learning.

To thofe who have ikill to eflimate the
excellence and difficulty of this great work,
it mull: be very defirable to know how it was
performed, and by what gradations it ad-
vanced to corredtnefs. Of luch an intellec-
tual procefs the knowledge has very rarely
been attainable ; but happily there remains
the original copy of the Iliad, which, being
obtained by Bolingbroke as a curiofity, de-
fcended from him to Mallet, and is now by
the felicitation of the late Dr. Maty repofited
in the Mufeum.

Between this manufcript, which is written
upon accidental. fragments of paper, and the
printed edition, there muil have been an in-
termediate copy, that was perhaps destroyed
as it returned from the prefs.

From the fir ft copy I have procured a few
tranfcripts, and mail exhibit firfl the printed

lines;

46 POPE.

lines ; then, in a fmaller print, thofe of the
man ufc ripts, with all their variations. Thofe
words in the fmall print which are given in
Italicks, are cancelled in the copy, and the
words placed under them adopted in their
{lead.

The beginning of the firfl book (lands thus :

The wrath of Pelens' fon, the direful fpring
Of all the Grecian woes, O Goddefs, fmg ;
That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign
The fouls of mighty chiefs untimely (lain.

The ftern PeliJes' rage, O Goddefs, fing,
wrath

Of all the woes of Greece the fatal fpring,
Grecian

That ftrew'd with warriors dead the Phrygian plain,
heroes

And peopled the dark hell with heroes flain J

fill'd the fhady hell with chiefs untimely

Whofe limbs, unburied on the naked fhore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore,
Since great Achilles and Atrides ftrove;
Such was the fovereign doom, and fuch the will
of Jove.

Whofe limbs, unburied on the hoftile more',-

Devouring dogs and greedy vultures tore,

Since firft Atrides and Achilles ftrove ;

Such was the fovereign doom, and fuch the will of Jove.

Declare,

POPE. 47

Declare, O Mufc, in what ill-fated hour
Sprung the fierce ftrife, from what offended

Power !

Latona's fon a dire contagion fpread,
And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead;
The King of Men his reverend prieft defy '4,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd,

Declare, O Goddefs, what offended Power

Enflam'd their rage, in that ill-omen 'd hour j.
anger fatal, haplefs

Phcebus himfelf the dire debate procur'd,
fierce

T' avenge the wrongs his injur'ct prielt endur'd ;
For this the God a dire infection fpread,
And heap'd the camp with millions of the dead :
The King of Men the facred Sire defy'd,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd.

For Chryfes fought with coftly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the Victor's chain $
Suppliant the venerable Father (lands,
Apollo's awful enfigns grace his hands,
By thefe he begs, and, lowly bending down.
Extends the fceptre and the laurel crown.

For Chryfes fought by prefents to regain

collly gifts to gain

His captive daughter from ths Vigor's chain ;.
Suppliant the venerable Father ftands,
Apollo's awful enfigns grac'd his hands,
By thefe he begs, and lowly bending down-

The gdden fceptre and the laurel crown,
Pjreients the iceptre

POP £.

For thefe as enfigns of his God be bare,
7'be God that fends his golden Jhafts afar?
The low on earth, the venerable man,
Suppliant before the brother kings began.

He fued to all, but chief implor'd for grace
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race ;
Ye kings and warriors, may your vows

crown'd,

And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
May Jove reftore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the plealures of your native fhore.

To all he fued, but chief implor'd for grace
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race.

Ye fans of Atreus, may your vows be crown'd,
Kings and warriors

Your labours, by the Gods be all your labours crown* dy
So may the Gods your arms with conqutft blefs,

And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground :
Till laid

And crown jour labours with deferrf d fuccefs ;
May Jove reitore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleafures of your native fhore.

But, oh ! relieve a wretched parent's pain^
And give Chryfeis to thefe arms again j
If mercy fail, yet let my prefent move,
And dread avenging Phcebus, fon of Jove.

But, oh ! relieve a haplefs parent's pain,

And give my daughter to thefe arms again ;

Receive my gifts; if mercy fails, yet let my prefent move,

And fear the God that deals his darts around,
avenging Phcebus, fon of Jove.

The

POPE, 49

The Greeks, in fhouts, their joint afTent declare
The prieft to reverence, and releafe the fair.
Not fo Atrides ; he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the facred Sire, and thus reply 'd.

He faid, the Greeks their joint aflent dtcla e,
$"be father f aid, the'gen'rous Greeks relent,

T' accept the ranfiJm, and releafe the fair:
Revere the priejl , and fpeak their joint ajj'ent :

Not fo the tyrant, he, with kingly pride,
Atrides,

Repuls'd the facred Sire, and thus reply'di
[Not fo the tyrant. DRYDEN.]

Of thefe lines, and of the whole firft book,
I am told that there was yet a former copy,
more varied, and more deformed with inter-
lineations.

The beginning of the fecond book varies
very little from the printed page, and is there-
fore fet down without any parallel : the few
flight differences do not require to be elabo-
rately difplayed*

Now pleafmg fleep had feal'd each mortal eye;
Stretch'd in their tents the Grecian leaders lie;
Th' Immortals flumber'd on their thrones above,
All but the ever-watchful eye of Jove.
To honour Thetis' fon he bends his care,
And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war.

VOL. IV, E Then

50 POPE.

Then bids an empty phantom rife to fight.
And thus commands the vifion of the night :

directs

Fly hence, delufive dream, and, light as air,
To Agamemnon's royal tent repair;
Bid him in arms draw forth th' ^embattled train,
March all his legions to the du£y plain.
Now tell the King 'tis given him to deflroy

Declare ev'n now

The lofty walls of wide-extended Troy -3

tow'r.s

For now no more the Gods with Fate contend j
At Juno's fuit the heavenly factions end.
Deftruction hovers o'er yon devoted wall,

hangs

And nodding Ilium waits th' impending fall.

Invocation to the Catalogue of Ships.

Say, Virgins, feated round the throne divine.,
All-knowing Goddefles ! immortal Nine !
Since earth's wide regions, heaven's unmeafur'd

height,

And hell's abyfs, hide nothing from your fight.,
(We, wretched mortals ! loft in doubts below,
But guefs by rumour, and but boaft we know)
Oh lay what heroes, fir'd by thirft of fame,
Or urg'd by v.Tongs, to Troy's deftruftion came!
To count them all, demands a thoufand tongues*.
A throat of brafs and adamantine lungs.

Now>

P O P E&

Now, Virgin GoddelTes, immortal Nine !
That round Olympus' heavenly fummit mine,
Who fee through heaven and earth, and hell profound^
And all things know, and all things can refound ;
Relate what armies fought the Trojan land,
What nations follow'd, and what chiefs command ;
(For doubtful Fame dillrafts mankind below,
And nothing can we tell, and nothing know)
Without your aid, to count th' unnumber'd train>
A thoufand mouths, a thoufand tongues were vain.

Book V. V. i.

But Pallas now Tydides' foul infpires,
Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires
Above the Greeks his deathlefs fame to raife,
And crown her hero with diftinguiih'd praife.
High on his helm celeftial lightnings play,
His beamy jfhield emits a living ray -,
Th' unwearied blaze inceffant ftrearns fupplies
Like the red {tar that fires th' autumnal Ikies

But Pallas now Tydides' foul infpires,

Fills with her rage, and warms with all her fires ;
force,

O'er all the Greeks decrees his fame to raife,

Above the Greeks her warrior's fame to raifea

his deathlefs

And crown her hero with immortal praife;

diftinguifh'd

E.-ight from his beamy creft the lightnings play»
Kigh on helm

From his broad buckler flam'd the living rays
High on his helm celeftial lightnings play,
KIs beamy fhield emits a living ray.

E 2 The

52 POPE.

The Goddefs with her breath the flame
Bright as the ftar whofe fires in Autumn rife ;
Her breath divine thick ftreaming flames fupplies.
Bright as the ftar that fires the autumnal flues :
Th' unwearied blaze incefTant ftreams fupplies,
Like the red flar that fires th' autumnal ikies.

When firft he rears his radiant orb to fight,
And bath'd in ocean frioots a keener light.
Such glories Pallas on the chief beftow'd,
Such from his arms the fierce effulgence fiow'dj
Onward fhe drives him furious to engage,
"Where the fight burns, and where the thickeft
rage.

When frefh he rears his radiant orb to fight,
And gilds old Ocean with a blaze of light,
Bright as the ftar that fires th' autumnal flcies,
Frefh from the deep, and gilds the feas and fkies.
Such glories Pallas on her chief beftow'd,
Such fparkling rays from his bright armour flow'd,
Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow'd.

Onward fhe drives him headlong to engage,

furious

Where the war bleeds, and where ti& fierceft rage,
fight burns, thickeit

The fons of Dares firft the combat fought,
A wealthy pried, but rich without a fault j
In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led,
The fons to toils of glorious battle bred j

There liv'd a Trojan — Dares was his name,
The prieft of Vulcan, rich, yet void of blame;

The

POPE. 53

The fons of Dares firft the combat fought,
A wealthy prieft, but rich without a fault.

Conclufion of Book VIII. v. 687.

As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heaven's clear azure fpreads her facred light;
When not a breath difturbs the deep ferene,
And not a cloud o'ercafts the folemn fcene j
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And ftars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole :
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure fhed,
And tip with filver every mountain's head ;
Then fhine the vales — the rocks in profpect rife,
A flood of glory burfts from all the Ikies j
The confcious fwains, rejoicing in the fight,
Eye the blue vault, and blefs the ufeful light.
So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,
And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays ;
The long reflexion of the diftant fires
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the fpires :
A thoufand piles the dnfky horrors gild,
And fhoot a lhady luftre o'er the field j
Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,
Whofe umber'd arms by fits thick flatties fend ;
Loud neigh the courfers o'er their heaps of corn,
And ardent warriors wait the rifing morji.

As when in fti Inefs of the filent night,
AS when the moon in all her luftre bright,

E 3 A3

54 POPE.

As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,

O'er heaven's clear azure Jheds herjilver light;
pure fpreads facred

As ftill in air the trembling luftre flood,
And o'er its golden border fhoots a flood ;

When no hofe gale difturbs the deep-ferene,
not a breath

And no dim cloud o'ercafts the folemn fcene ;
not a

Around her filver throne the planets glow,
And ftars unnumber'd trembling beams beftow j
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And ftars unn umber 'd gild the glowing pole :
Clear gleams of light o'er the dark trees are feen,
o'er the dark trees a yellow fheds,

O'er the dark trees a yellower green they fhed,

gleam
verdure

And tip with filver all the mountain, heads :

foreft

And tip with filver every mountain's head,
The vallies open, and the forefh rife,
The vales appear, the rocks in profpeft rife,
Then fhine the vales, the rocks in profpeft rife.,
All Nature ftands reveal'd before our eyes ;
A flood of glory burfts from all the fkies.
The confcious fhepherd, joyful at the fight,
Eyes the blue vault, and numbers every light.

The confcious_/w£/KJ rejoicing at the fight

fhepherds gazing with delight

Eye the blue vault, and b.lefs the vivid light.

glorious
ufeful

So many flames before the na-vy blaze,

proud Ilion

And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays,
Wide o'er the fields to Troy extend the gleams,
And tip the difiant fpires with fainter beams, j

Th©

POPE. 55

The long reflexions of the diftant fires
Gild the high walls, and tremble on the fpires,
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the fpires j
A thoufand fires at diitant Nations bright,
Gild the dark profpecl, and difpel the night.

Of thefe fpecimens every man who has cul-
tivated poetry, or who delights to trace the
mind from the rudenefs of its firil: concep-
tions to the elegance of its laft, will naturally
delire a greater number ; but moil other read-
ers are already tired, and I am not writing
only to poets and philofophers.

The Iliad was publifhed volume by volume,
as the tranflation proceeded ; the four firft
books appeared in 1715. The expectation
of this work \vas undoubtedly high, and
every man who had connected his name with
criticifm, or poetry, was defirous of fuch in-
telligence as might enable him to talk upon
the popular topick. Halifax, who, by hav-
ing been firrr. a poet, and then a patron of po-
etry, had acquired the right of freing a judge,
was willing to hear fome books while they
were yet unpublished. Of this rehearfal Pope
afterwards gave the following account*.

* Spence.

E A. f( Thf

56 POPE,

ss The famous Lord Halifax was rather a
*' pretender to tafte than really pofTefTed of
" it. — Wh-n I had finished the two or three
" firft books of my tranilation of the Hiadt
6t that Lord defired to have the pleafure of
" hearing them read at his houfe. — Addifon,
" Congreve, and Garth, were there at the
" reauing. In four or five places, Lord
<( Halifax ftopt me very civilly, and with a
" fpeecheachtim< , r. neb D! tncfame kind, * I
" beg your pardon, Mr. Pope ; but there is
" fomething in that pafiage that does not
" quite pleafe me. — ^Be fo good as to mark the
" place, and confider it a little at your leifure,
" -^-I'm fure you can give it a little turn/
" I returned from Lord Halifax's with Dr.
" Garth, in his chariot; and, as we were
" going along, was laying to the DoAor, that
" my Lord h -d Lid me under a good deal
" of difficulty by fuch loofc and general ob-
" icrvat.ons ; that I hud been thinking over
ee the pail'iges ahnoft ever fmce, and could
" not Duel's at what it was that offended his

*' Lordihip in either of them. Garth laughed
" heartily at my embarrarTment ; faid, I had
ff not be^n long enough acquainted with Lord

" Halifax

POPE. 57

** Halifax to know his way yet ; that I need
" not puzzle my felf about looking thofe places
" over and over, when I got home. < All you
" need do (fays he) is to leave them juft as
" they are; call on Lord Halifax two or three
*' months hence, thank him for his kind ob-*
*' fervations on thofe paffages, and then read
" them to him as altered, I have known him,
" much longer than you have, and will be
" anfwerable for the event.' I followed his
<f advice; waited on Lord Halifax fome time
" after ; faid, I hoped he would find his ob-
"jedlions to thofe paffages removed; read
" them to him exactly as they were at firft :
" and his Lordfhip was extremely pleafed
" with them, and cried out, Ay, now they
*' are perjeftly right : nothing can be better "

It is feldom that thegreatorthe wife fufpecT:
that they are defpifed or cheated. Halifax,
thinking this a lucky opportunity of fecuring
immortality, made fome advances of favour
and fome overtures of advantage to Pope,
which he feems to have received with fullen
coldnefs. All our knowledge of this tranfac-
tion is derived from a fmgie Letter (Dec. i,
1714), in which Pope fays, " I am obliged to

** you,

€t

'(I
f{
ft

58 POPE.

" you, both for the favours you have done
me, and thofe you intend me. I diftruft
neither your will nor your memory, when
it is to do good ; and if I ever become trou-
" blefome or folicitous, it muft not be out
<e of expectation, but out of gratitude. Your
Lordfhip may caufe me to live agreeably in
the town, or contentedly in the country,
which is really all the difference I fet be-
" tween an eafy fortune and a fmall one. It
" is indeed a high ftrain of generofity in you
to think of making me eafy all my life,
only becaufe I have been fo happy as to di-
vert you fome few hours ; but, if I may
have leave Ho add it is becaufe you think
me no enemy to my native country, there
will appear a better reafon ; for I muft of
confequence be very much (as I lincerely
am) yours 6cc."

ft
ft
((
if
tt
tt
tt
ft

Thefe voluntary offers, and this faint ac-
ceptance, ended without effect. The patron
was not accuftomed to fuch frigid gratitude,
and the poet fed his own pride with the dig-
nity of independence. They probably were
fuipicious of each other. Pope would not de-
dicate till he faw at what rate his praife was

valued 5

POPE/ 59

valued ; he would be troublcfome out of grati-
tude, not expectation. Halifax thought him-
felf entitled to confidence j and would give
nothing, unlefs he knew what he mould re-
ceive. Their commerce had its beginning in
hope of praife on one fide, and of money on
the other, and ended becaufe Pope was lefs
eager of money than Halifax of praife. It
is not likely that Halifax had any perfonal
benevolence to Pope j it is evident that Pope
looked on Halifax with fcorn and hatred.

The reputation of this 'great work failed
of gaining him a patron; but it deprived him
of a friend. Addifon and he were now at
the head of poetry and criticifm j and both
in fuch a ftate of elevation, that, like the two
rivals in the Roman ftate, one could no
longer bear an equal, nor the other a fupe-
rior. Of the gradual abatement of kindnefs
between friends, the beginning is often fcarcely
difcernible by themfelves, and the procefs is
continued by petty provocations, and incivi-
lities fometimespeevimly returned, andfome-
timescontemptuoufly neglected, which would
efcape all attention but that of pride, and
drop from any memory but that of refent-

ment,

60 POPE.

ment. That the quarrel of thofe two wits
jfhould be minutely deduced, is not to be ex-
pelled from a writer to whom, as Homer

fays, nothing but rumour has reached, and who
has no perjonal knowledge.

Pope doubtlefs approached Addifon, when
the reputation of their wit firfl brought them
together, with the refpecfc due to a man whofe
abilities were acknowledged, and who, hav-
ing attained that eminence to which he was
himfelf afpiring, had in his hands the diftri-
bution of literary fame. He paid court with
fufficient diligence by his Prologue to Cato,
by his abufe of Dennis, and, with praife yet
more direct, by his poem on the Dialogues on
Medals, of which the immediate publication
was then intended. In all this there was no
hypocrify ; for he confeiTed that he found in
Addifon fomething more plealing than in any
other man,

It may be fuppofed, that as Pope faw him-
felf favoured by the world, and more fre-
quently compared his own powers with thofe
cf others, his confidence increafed, and his
fubmim'on lefTened 5 and that Addifon felt
j no

POPE. 61

no delight from the advances of a young wit,
who might foon contend with him for the
higheft place. Every great man, of whatever
kind be his greatnefs, has among his friends
thofe who ofricioufly, or infidiouily, quicken
his attention to offences, heighten his difgufr,
and ftimulate his refentment. Of fuch ad-
herents Addiion doubtlefs had many, and
Pope was now too high to be without them.

From the emifiion and reception of the
Propofals for the Iliad, the kindnefs of Ad-
difon feems to have abated. Jervas the
painter once pleafed himfelf (Aug. 20, 1714)
with imagining that he had re-eftablifned
their friendfhip ; and wrote to Pope that Ad-
difon once fufpected him of too clofe a con-
federacy with Swift, but was now fatisned
with his conduct. To this Pope anfwered,
a week after, that his engagements to Swift
were fuch as his fervices in regard to the fub-
fcription demanded, and that the Tories ne-
ver put him under the neceffity of afking
leave to be grateful. But, fays he, as Mr.
Addifon miift be the judge in what regards him-
felf, andfee?ns to have no very j lift one in regard
to me, fo Imvfl own to you I expeSl nothing but

civility

62 POPE.

civility from him. In the fame Letter he
mentions Philips, as having been bufy to
kindle animoiity between them ; but, in a
Letter to Addifon, he exprefles fome confci-
oufnefs of behavi9ur, inattentively deficient
in refpect.

Of Swift's induftry in promoting the fub-
fcription there remains the teflimony of Ken-
net, no friend to either him or Pope.

" Nov. 2, 1713, Dr. Swift came into the
" coffee-houfe, and had a bow from every
" body but me, who, I confefs, could not
" but defpife him. When I came to the anti-
" chamber to wait, before prayers, Dr. Swift
" was the principal man of talk and bulinefs,
" and a&ed as mafter of requefts. — Then he
' inftrudted a young nobleman that the beft
" Poet in England was Mr. Pope (a papift),
" who had begun a tranflation of Homer
into Engiim verfe, for which he miift have
them all fubfcribe ; for, fays he, the author
fkall not begin to print till / &ave a thou-
*' fand guineas for him."

About this time it is likely that Steele, who
was, with all his political fury, good-natured

«c

POPE. 63

and officious, procured an interview between
thefe angry rivals, which ended in aggravated
malevolence. On this occafion, if the reports
be true, Pope made his complaint with frank-
nefs and fpirit, as a man undefervedly ne-
glected or oppofed ; and Addifon affecled a
contemptuous unconcern, and, in a calm
even voice, reproached Pope with his vanity,
and, telling him of the improvements which
his early works had received from his own
remarks and thofe of Steele, faid, that he,
being now engaged in publick bufinefs, had
no longer any care for his poetical reputation ;
nor had any other deiire, with regard to Pope,
than that his mould not, by too much arro-
gance, alienate the publick.

To this Pope is faid to have replied with
great keennefs and feverity, upbraiding Ad-
difon with perpetual dependance, and with
the abufe of thofe qualifications which he had
obtained at the publick coft, and charging
him with mean endeavours to obftruct the
progrefs of rifmg merit. The conteft rofe
fo high, that they parted at lafl without any
interchange of civility.

The

64 POPE,

The firfl volume of Homer was (1715) in
time publifhed; and a rival verfion of the
firfl Iliad, for rivals the time of their appear-
ance inevitably made them, was immediately
printed, with the mine of Tickell. It was
foon perceived that, among the followers of
Addifon, Tickell had the preference, and the
criticks and poets divided into factions. 7,
fays Pope, have the town, that is, the mob, on
my fide \ but it is not uncommon for the fmaller
party to fupply by indujlry what It wants in num-
bers.— I appeal to the people as my rightful
judges, and^ while they are not inclined to con-
demn me, Jh all not fear the high-flyers at Buttons.
This oppofition he immediately imputed to
Addifon, and complained of it in terms fuf-
ficiently refentful to Craggs, their common
friend.

When Addifon's opinion was afked, he de-
clared the verfion s to be both good, but
Tickell-'s the beft that had ever been written ;
and fometimes faid that they were both good,
but that Tickell had more of Homer.

Pope was now fufficiently irritated ; his
reputation and his interelt were at hazard. He

once

POPE. 65

once intended to print together the four ver-
iions of Dryden, Maynwaring, Pope, and
Tickell, that they might be readily compared,
and fairly eflimated. This defign feems to
have been defeated by the refufal of Tonfon,
who was the proprietor of the other three
veriions.

Pope intended at another time a rigorous
criticifm of Tickell's tranflation, and had
marked a copy, which I have feen, in all
places that appeared defective. But while he
was thus meditating defence or revenge, his

adverfarv funk before him without a blow :
j

the voice of the publick \vere not long di-
vided, and the preference was univerially
given to Pope's performance.

He was convinced, by adding one circum-

•> o

fiance to another, that the other tranflation
was the work of Addiibn himfelf j but if he
knew it in Addifon's life-time, it does not
appear that he told it. He left his illuftrious
pitagonift to be punimed by what has been
coniidered as the moft painful of all reflec-
tions, the remembrance of a crime perpe-
trated in vain.

VOL. IV. F The

66 POP E.

The other circum fiances of their quarrel
were thus related by Pope *.

" Philips feemed to have been encouraged
•' to abufe me in cofFee-houfes, and conver-
" fations : and Gildon wrote a thing about
" Wycherley, in which he had abufed both
" me and my relations very grofly. Lord
" Warwick himfelf told me one day, that it
" was in vain for me to endeavour to be well
" with Mr. Addifon; that his jealous temper
" would never admit of a fettled friendihip
" between us : and, to convince me of what
*' he had faid, allured me, that Addifon had
*' encouraged Gildcn to publim thofe fcan-
" dais, and had given him ten guineas after
*'e they were publiflied. The next day, while
• *' I was heated with what I had heard, I
" wrote a Letter to Mr. Addifon, to let him
" know that I was not unacquainted with this
" behaviour of his ; that if I was to fpeak
" feverely of him, in return foir it, it mould
" be in fuch a dirty way, that I mould rather
" tell him, himfelf, fairly of his faults, and
" allow his good qualities; and that it mould

* Spencc.

« be

POPE. 67

" be fomething in the following manner : I
" then adjoined the firlt fketch of what has
" lince heen called my fatire on Addifon.
" Mr. Addifon ufed me very civilly ever
" after."

The verfes on Addifon, when they were
fent to Atterbury, were confidered by him as
the moil excellent of Pope's performances ;
and the writer was advifed, lince he knew
where his lirength lay, not to fuffer it to
remain unemployed.

This year (1715) being, by the fubfcrip-
tion, enabled to live more by choice, having
perfuaded his father to fell their eftate at-Bin-
field, he purchafed, I think only for his life,
that houfe at Twickenham to which his reli-
dence afterwards procured fo much celebra-
tion, and removed thither with his father and
mother.

Here he planted the vines and the quincunr
which his verfes mention ; and being under
the necefiity of making a fubterraneous paf-
fage to a garden on the other fide of the road,
he adorned it with foffile bodies, and dignified

F 2 it

63 POPE.

it with the title cf a grotto ; a place of filence
and retreat, from which he endeavoured to
perfuade his friends and himfelf that cares
and palTions could be excluded.

A grotto is not often the wifh or pleafure
of an Englifhman, who has more frequent
need to folicit than exclude the fun ; but
Pope's excavation was requiiite as an entrance
to his garden, and, as forne men try to be
proud of their defects, he extracted an orna-
ment from an inconvenience, and vanity
produced a grotto where neceffity enforced a
paflage. It may he frequently remarked of
the iiudious and fpeculutive, that they are
proud of trifles, -"••! tliat their amufements
icem frivolous and childiili; whether it be
that men confcious of grer.t reputation think
themfelves above the rep.cli of cenfure, and
lafe in the admiinon q£ negligent indulgences,
or thiU r.uMikind expcd from elevated genius
.in uniformity of greatnefs, and watch its
•degradation with malicious v/onder- like him
.who having followed with his eye an eagle
into the clouds, mould lament that me ever
defcended to a perch.

While

POPE. 69

While the volumes of his Homer were an-
nually publiflied, he collected his former
works (1717) into one quarto volume, to
which he prefixed a Preface, written with
great fpritelineis and elegance, which was
afterwards reprinted, with forne pafTages
iubjoined that he at fir ft omitted ; other
marginal additions of the fame kind he made
in the later editions of his poems. Waller
remarks, that poets lofe half their praife,
becaufe the reader knows not what they have
blotted. Pope's voracity of fame taught
him the art of obtaining; the accumulated

honour both of what he had publifhed, and
of what he had fupprelTed.

In this year his father died fuddenly, in
his feventy- fifth year, having palled twenty-'
nine years in privacy. He is not known but
by the character which his fon has given
him. If the money with which he retired
was all gotten by himfelf, he had traded very
fuccefsfully in times when fudden riches were
rarely attainable,

The publication of the Iliad was at lafl
completed in 1720, The fnkndor and fuc-

F 3 eels

7o POPE.

cefs of this work railed Pope many enemies,
that endeavoured to depreciate his abilities $
Burnet, who was afterwards a Judge of no
mean reputation, cenfured him in a piece
called Homerides before it was published ;
Ducket likewife endeavoured to make him
ridiculous. Dennis was the perpetual perle-
cutor of all his ftudies. But, whoever his
criticks were, their writings are loft, and the
names which are preferved, are preferved in
the Dunciad.

In this difaflrous year (1720) of national
infatuation, when more riches than Peru can
boafl wrere exoecled from the South Sea,
when the contagion of avarice tainted every
mind, and even poets panted after wealth,
Pope was feized with the univerfal pamon,
and ventured fome of his money. The flock
rofe in its price ; and he for a while thought
himfelf the Lordofthoufands. But this dream
of happinefs did not lail long, and he feems
to have waked foon enough to get clear with
the lofs only of what he once thought himfeif
to have won, and perhaps not wholly of that.

Next year he published fome f-iec> poc
of his friend Dr. Parnell, with a very ele^nt

Dedi-

POPE. 71

Dedication to the Earl of Oxford ; \vho, af-
ter all his ftruggles and dangers, then lived
in retirement, ilill under the frown of a vic-
torious faction, who could take no pleaiure
in hearing his praife.

He gave the fame year (1721) an edition
of Shakfpeare. His name was now of io
much authority, that Tonlbn thought him-
felf entitled, by annexing it, to demand a
i'ubicription of fix guineas for Shakfpeare's
plays in fix quarto volumes ; nor did his ex-r
pedation much deceive him ; fbr of feven
hundred and fifty which he printed, he dil-
perfed a great number at the price propofed,
The reputation of that edition indeed funk
afterwards ib low, that one hundred and iorty
copies were fold at lixteen -hillings each.

On this undertaking, to which Pope was
induced by a reward of two hundred and
feventeen pounds twelve (hillings, he ieems
never to have reflected afterwards without

vexation ; for Theobald, a man of heavy di-
ligence, with very (lender powers, fir ft, in a
book called Sbakejpeare Rcjicrcd, and then in
2 formal edition, u.::ccted his deficiencies

F 4 with.

72 POPE.

with all the infolence of victory -, and, as he
was now high enough to be feared and hated,
Theobald had from others all the help that
could be fupplied, by the defire of humbling
a haughty character.

From this time Pope became an enemy to
editors, collaters, commentators, and verbal
criticks ; and hoped to perfuade the world,
that he mifcarried in this undertaking only
by having a mind too great for fuch minute
employment.

Pope in his edition undoubtedly did many
things wrong, and left many things undone;
but let him not be defrauded of his due
praife. He was the firft that knew, at lead
the fir ft that told, by what helps the text
might be improved. If he infpected the
early editions negligently, he taught others
to be more accurate. In his Preface he ex-
panded with great fkill and elegance the
character which had been given of Shak-
fpeare by Dryden ; and he drew thepublick
attention upon his wrorks, which, though of-
ten mentioned, had been little read.

§oon

POPE. 73

Soon after the appearance of the Iliad, re-
fblving not to let the general kindncfs cool,
he publiflied propofals for a frranilation of
the OdyJ/ey, in five volumes, for five guineas.
He was willing, however, now to have ailb-
ciates in his labour, being either weary with
toiling upon another's thoughts, or having
heard, as Ruffhead relates, that Fenton and
Broome had already begun the work, and
liking better to have them confederates than
rivals.

In the patent, inftead of faying that he
had tranjlated the OdyJJ'ey, as he had fai4 of
the Iliad, he fays that he had undertaken a
tranflation -t and in the propofals the fuh-
fcription is faid to be not folely for his own
life, but for that of two of his friends ivhd
have aljijtcd him in this work,

H/ v/

In 1723, while he was engaged in this
new verfion, he appeared before the Lords
at the memorable trial of Bifhop Atterbury,
with whom he had lived in great familiarity,
and frequent correfpondence. Atterbury had
honeftly recommended to him the ftudy cf

74 POP E,

the popim controverfy, in hope of his con~
verfion ; to which Pope anfwered in a man-
ner that cannot much recommend his prin^
ciples, or his judgement. In queftions and
proie&s of learning, they agreed better. He
was called at the £rial to give an account of
Atterbury's domeflick life, and private em-
ployment, that it might appear how little
time he had left for plots. Pope had but
few words to utter, and in thofe few he made
feveral blunders.

Hjs Letters to Atterbury exprefs the ut-
mofl efleem, tendernefs, and gratitude : per-
haps, fays he, it is not only in this world that
I may have caufe to remember the BiJJoop of
Rocbefler. At their lail interview in the
Tower, Atterbury prefented him with a
Bible.

Of the Qdyjfey Pope tranflated only twelve
books ;' the reft were the work of Broome
and Fenton : the notes were written wholly
by Broome, who was not over-liberally re,-
warded. The Public was carefully kept
ignorant of the feveral mares ; and an account
was fubjoined at the conclufion3 which is
now known not to be true.

The

POPE, 73

The firfl copy of Pope's books, with thofe
of Fenton, are to be feen in the Mufeum.
The parts of Pope are lefs interlined than
the Iliad, and the latter books of the Iliad
lefs than the former. He grew dexterous by
practice, and every meet enabled him to
write the next with more facility. The books
of Fenton have very few alterations by the
hand of Pope. Thofe of Broome have not
been found ; but Pope complained, as it is
reported, that he had much trouble in cor-
recting them.

His contract with Lintot was the fame as
for the Jliad, except that only one hundred
pounds were to be paid him for each volume.
The number of fubfcribers was five hundred
and feventy-four, and of copies eight hun-
dred and nineteen ; fo that his profit, when
he had paid his afflftants, was flili very con-
fiderable. The work was finished in 1725,
and from that time he reiblved to make no
more tranflations.

The fale did not anfwer Lintot's expedi-
tion, and he then pretended to difcover fome-

thing

76 POPE.

thing of fraud in Pope, and commenced, or
threatened, a fuit in Chancery.

On theEnsrlifti Qdy/iey a criticifm was pub-

O •/.*/ .' J.

limed by Spence, at that time Prelector of
Poetry at Oxford ; a man whofe learning was
not very great, and whofe mind was not very
powerful . His criticifm, however, was com-
monly juft; what bethought, he thought
rightly ; and his remarks were recommended
by his coolnefs and candour. In him Pope
had the firft experience of a critick without
malevolence, who thought it as much his
duty to difplay beauties as expofe faults ;
who cenfured with refpedt, and praifed with
alacrity.

With this criticifm Pope was fo little of-
fended, that he fought the acquaintance of
the writer, who lived with him from that
time in great familiarity, attended him in his
kit hours, ai,d compiled memorials of his

. . -Tfation.' i . .... i of P . recorn-
mended him to the grt .. . . verful, and
he obtained very va; - •'• refe : ts in the
Church.

Not'

POPE. 77

Not long after Pope was returning home
from a viiit in a friend's coach, which, in
pairing a bridge, was overturned into the
water ; the windows v/ere ciofed, and being
unable to force them open, he was in danger
of immediate death, when the pofKlion fnatch-
cd him out by bred-ling the glafs, of which
the fragments cut two of his fingers in fuch
a manner, that he loll their ull:.

Voltaire, who was then in England, fent
him a Letter of Confplation. He had been
entertained by Pope at his table, where he

talked with fo much f-roflhefs that Mrs. Pope

«-> . i

was driven from the room. Pope difcovered,
by a trick, that he was a fpy for the Court,
and never confidered him as a man worthy of
confidence.

He foon afterwards (1727) joined with
Swift, who was then in England, to pubiifh
three volumes of Miscellanies, in which
amongft other things he inferted the Mer.cirs
of a Parijh Clerk, in ridicule of Burnet's im-
portance in his own Hiftory, and a Debate
upon Black and White Hcrfes, written in all the
formalities of a legal proceis by the afTiftance,

78 POPE.

as is faid, of Mr. Fortefcue, afterwards
Mafter of the Rolls. Before thefe Mifcella-
nies is a preface figned by Swift and Pope,
but apparently written by Pope 3 in which he
makes a ridiculeus and romantick complaint
of the robberies committed upon authors by
the clandeftine feizure and fale of their pa-
pers. He tells, in tragick ftrains, how the
cabinets of the Sick and the clofets of the Dead
have been broke open andranfacked-^ as if thofe
violences were often committed for papers of
uncertain and accidental value, which are
rarely provoked by real treafures ; as if epi-
grams and efTays Were in danger where gold
and diamonds are fafe. A cat, hunted for
his mufk, is, according to Pope's account,
but the emblem of a wit winded by book-^
fellers.

•

His complaint, however, received fome at-
teflation ; for the fame year the Letters writ-
ten by him to Mr. Cromwell, in his youth,
were fold by Mrs. Thomas to Curll, who
printed them.

In thefe Mifcellanies was firft publimed the

Art of Sinking in Poetry, which, by fuch a

4 train

POPE.

train of confequences as ufually paries in li-
terary quarrels, gave in a mort time, ac-
cording to Pope's account, occasion to the
D unclad.

•

In the following year (1728) he began to
put Atterbury's advice in practice: andfhewed
his fatirical powers by publifhirig the Dun-
ciad, one of his greatest and moil elaborate
performances, in which he endeavoured to
link into contempt all the writers by whom
he had been attacked, and fome others whom
he thought unable to defend themfdves,

At the head of the Dunces he placed poor
Theobald, whom he accufed of ingratitude;
but whofe real crime was fuppofed to be that
of having revifed Sbakfpsare more happily
than himielf . This fatire had the effect which
he intended, by blafting the characters which
it touched. Ralph, who, unnecefTarily inter-
poling in the quarrel, got a place in a fubfe-
quent edition, complained that for a time h z
was in danger of ftarving, as the bookfel-
lers had no longer any confidence in his
capacity.

The

So POPE.

The prevalence of this poem was gradual
and flow : the plan, if not wholly new, was
little underftood by common readers. Many
of the allufions required illustration ; the
names were often expreSTed only hy the ini-
tial and final letters, and, if they had been
printed at length, were fuch as few had known
or recollected. The Subject itfelf had no-
thing generally interesting, ffor whom did it
concern to know that one or another fcrib-
bler was a dunce ? If therefore it had been
pofiible for thofe who were attacked to con-
ceal their rain and their refentment, the Jjun-
ciad might have made its way very (lowly in
the world.

This, however, was not to be expected :

every man is of importance to himfelf, am!
therefore, in his own opinion, to others ;
and, fuppoSing the world already acquainted
with all his pleasures and his pains, is per-
haps the firSt to publish injuries or misfor-
tunes, which had never been known unlefs
related by himfelf, and at which thofe that
hear them will only laugh ; for no man fym-
pathiies with the ibrrow* of vanity.

The

POPE. Si

The hiftory of the Dunciadis very minutely
related by Pope himfelf, in a Dedication
which he wrote to Lord Middlefex in the
name of Savage.

" I will relate ihe war of the Dunces (for
" ib it has been commonly called), which be-
" gun in the year 1727, and ended in 1730.

" When Dr. Swift and Mr. Pope thought
it proper, for reafons ipecined in the Pre-

e to their Mncellanies, to pubiim fuch
little pieces of theirs as had cafually got

?ad, there was added to them the T?
t-je of the Bathos, or the ArtofZ. ~ in
Poetry. It happened that in one chapter
ci this piece the feveral fpecies cf bad po-
ets were ranged in claiies, : which were
prefixed almoft all the letters cf the alpha-
bet (the greateil part of them at random) ;
but fuch was the number of poets emi-
nent in that art, that fome one or other
took every letter to himfeif : all fell into

ib violent a f urv, that, for half a year or
more, the common newfpapers (in moil
of which they had fome property, as being
VOL. IV. G " hired

t .'
(f

t C

K
< «

< (

82 POPE.

tc
.1

hired writers) were filled with the moil
abufive falihoods and fcurrilities they could
" poffibly devife. A liberty no way to be
" wondered at in thofe people, and in thofe
" papers, that for many years, during the
" uncontrouled licenfe of the prefs, had af-
" perfed almoft all the great characters of the
" age; and this with impunity, their own
" perfons and names being utterly fecret and
*' obfcure.

" This gave Mr. Pope the thought, that
he had now fome opportunity of doing
good, by detecting and dragging into light
" thefe common enemies of mankind ; fince
<f to invalidate this univerfal flander, it fuf-
ficed to mew what contemptible men were
the authors of it. He was not without
hopes, thcit, by manifefting the dulnefs
of thofe who had only malice to recom-
.mend them, either the bookfellers would
not find their account in employing them,
or the men themfelves, when difcovered,
want courage to proceed in fo unlawful an
occupation. This it was that gave birth
*' to the D unclad -} and he thought it an
happinefs, that, by the late flood of flander

" on

POPE. 83

on himfelf, he had acquired fuch a pecu-
liar right over their names as was neceiiary

" to this defign.

" On the 1 2th of March, 1729, at St.
" James's, that poem was prefented to the

King and Queen (who had before been
" pleafcd to read it) by the right honourable

Sir Robert Walncle ; and fome days after
" the whole impreffion was taken and difperfed
" by feveral noblemen and perfons of the
" firft diilinction.

" It is certainly a true obfervation, that no
people are fo impatient of cenfure as thofe
" who are the greateil fianderers, which was
" wonderfully exemplified on this occafio::.
" On the day the book was firft vended, a
crowd of authors befieged the fhop ; in-
treaties, advices, threats of law and bat-
tery, nay cries of treaibn, were all employed
" to hinder the coming-out of the D unclad:
" on the other fide, the bookfellers and
hawkers made as great efforts to procure
it. What could a few7 poor authors do
again fb fo great a majority as the publick ?
There was no flopping a torrent with a
finger, fo out it came.

G 2 " Many

§4 POPE.

" Many ludicrous circumstances attended
"it. The Dunces (for by this name they
" were called) held weekly clubs, to confult
" of hostilities againft the author : one wrote
" a Letter to a great minifler, alluring him
" Mr. Pope was the greateft enemy the go-
*' vernment had ; and another bought his
" image in clay, to execute him in effigy,
" with which fad fort of fatisfaction the gen-
" tlemen were a little comforted.

" Some falie editions of the book having
" an owl in their frontifpiece, the true one,
" to distinguish it, fixed in its Head an afs
" laden with authors. Then another fur-
" reptiticus one being printed with the fame
*< ais, the new edition in odtavo returned
*' for diftindtion to the owl again. Hence
" arofe a great conteft of bookfellers againft
** bookfellers, and advertifements againft ad-
"' vertifements; fome recommending the edi-
'* tion of the owl, and others the edition of
" the afs ; by which names they came to be
" diftinguimed, to the great honour alfo of
** the gentlemen of the Dunciad."

Pope

POPE. 85

Pope appears by this narrative to have con-
templated his victory over the Dunces with
great exultation ; and fuch was his delight in
the tumult which he had raifed, that for a
while his natural fenfibility was fiifpendcd,
and he read reproaches and invectives with-
out emotion, confidering them only as the
neceffary effects of that pain which he rejoiced
in having given.

<J w

It cannot however be concealed that, by
his own confeffion, he was the aggrefTor ;
for nobody believes that the letters in the
Bathos were placed at random ; and it may be
difcovered that, when he thinks himfelf con-
cealed, he indulges the common vanity of
common men, and triumphs in thofe diftinc-
tions which he had affected to defpife. He
is proud that his book was prefented, to the
King and Queen by the right honourable Sir
Robert Walpole ; he is proud that they had
read it before ; he is proud that the edition
was taken off by the nobility and perfons of
the nrft: diftinction.

The edition of which he fpeaks was, I be-
lieve, that, which by telling in the text the

G 3 names

86 POPE.

names and in the notes the characters of
thofe whom he hud fatirifed, was made in-
telligible and diverting. The criticks had
no-;/ declared their approbation of the plan,
and the common recdcr began to like it with-
out fear; thofe who were ftrangers to petty
literature, ana therefore unable to decypher
initials and blanks, h,.d now names and per-
fons brought within their view; and delight-
ed in the vifible effect of thofe fhafts of ma-
lice, which they had hitherto contemplated,
as mot into the air.

Dennis, upon the frefh provocation now
given him, renewed the enmity which had
for a time been appeafed by mutual civili-
ties ; and publimed remarks, which he had
till then fupprefTed, upon the Rape of the
Lock. ' Many more grumbled in fecret, or
vented their refentment in the newfpapers by
epigrams or invectives.

Ducket, indeed, being mentioned as lov-
ing Eurnet \v\t\\piouspffffion, pretended that
his moral character was injured, and for
foA;'ie time declared his refolution to take
vengeance with a cudgel. But Pope ap-
peafed

POPE. 87

peafed him, by changing pious paffion to cor-
dial friend/hip , und by a note, in which he
vehemently difclaims the malignity of mean-
ing imputed to the firfl expreflion.

Aaron Hill, who was reprefented as div-
ing for the prize, expostulated with Pope in
a manner fo much fuperior to all mean feli-
citation, that Pope was reduced to fneak and
muffle, fometimes to deny, and fometimes
to apologize ; he firft endeavours to wound,
and is then afnud to own that he meant a
blow.

The Bunciad, in the complete edition, is
addrefled to Dr. Swift : of the notes, part
was written by Dr. Arbuthnot, and an apo-
logetical Letter was prefixed, figned by Cle-
land, but fuppofed to have been written by
Pope.

After this general war upon dulnefs, he
feems to have indulged himfelf awhile in
tranquillity; but his fubfequent productions
prove that he was not idle. He published
(1731) a poem on Tafte, in which he very
particularly and feverely criticifcs the houie,

G 4 the

SS POPE.

the furniture, the gardens, and the enter-
tainments of tfimon, a man of great wealth
and little tafte. By Timon he was univerfal-
ly fuppofed, and by the Earl of Burlington,
to whom the poem is addreiTed, was private-
ly faid, to mean the Duke of Chandos ; a
man perhaps too much delighted with pomp
and Ihow, but of a temper kind and bene-
ficent, and who had confequently the voice
of the publick in his favour.

A violent outcry was therefore raifed
againft the ingratitude and treachery of Pope,
who was faid to have been indebted to the
patronage of Chandos for a prefent of a
thoufand pounds, and who gained the op-
portunity of infulting him by the kindnefs of
his invitation.

The receipt of the thoufand pounds Pope
publickly denied ; but from the reproach
which the attack on a character fo amiable
brought upon him, he tried all means of
efcaping. The name of Cleland was again
employed in an apology, by which no man
was fatisfied ; and he was at lafi: reduced to
fhelter his temerity behind diffimulation, and

endeavour

POPE. £9

endeavour to "make that difbelieved which he
never had confidence openly to deny. He
\vrote an exculpatory letter to the Duke,
which was anfwered with great magnanimity,
as by a man who accepted his excufe without
believing his profeiTicns. He laid, that to
have ridiculed his tafte, or his buildings,
had been an indifferent action in another
man ; but thu.t in Pope, after the reciprocal
kindnefs that had been exchanged between
them, it had been lefs eafily excuicd.

Pope, in one of his Letters, complain-
ing of the treatment which his poem had
found, owns that fuch criticks can intimidate
him, nay almofi perjuade him to write no more,
w:::ch is a c -:t this age deferves. The

man who threatens the world is always ridi-

culous ; for the world can eafily go on with-
out him, and in a fhort time will ceafe to
mils him. I have heard of an idiot, who
ufed to revenge his vexations by lying all
night upon the bridge. 'There is nothing, fays
Juvenal, that a :nr,n will not believe in his own
favour. Pope had been flattered till he
thought himfelf one of the moving powers
in the fyiiem of life. 'When he talked of

•»

laying

go POPE.

laying down his pen, thofe who fat round
him intreated and implored, and felf-love
did not fuffer him to fufpeft that they went
away and laughed.

The following year deprived him of Gay,
a man whom he had known early, and whom
he feemed to love with more tendernefs than
any other of his literary friends. Pope was
now forty-four years old; an age ?.t whLh
the mind begins lefs eafily to admit new con-
fidence, and the will to grow lefs flexible,
and v-'hen therefore the departure of an old
friend is very acutely felt.

In the next year he loft his mother, not
by an unexpected death, for me had lafted
to the age of ninety-three ; but me did not
die unlamented. The filial piety of Pope
was in the hi^heft degree amiable and ex-
emplary j his parents had the happinefs of
living till he was at the furnmit of poetical
reputation, till he was at eafe in his fortune,
and without a rival in his fame, and found
no diminution of his ref ec~t or tendernefs.
Whatever was his pride, to them he was obe-
dient ; and whatever was his irritability, to

them

POPE. or

«, j

them he was gentle. Life has, among its
foothing and quiet comforts, "few things bet-
ter to give than fuch a foil.

One of the pafTages of Pope's life, which
feems to deferve fome enquiry, was a publi-
cation of Letters between him and many of
his friends, which falling into the hands of
Cur II t a rapacious bookfeller of no good fame,
were by him printed and fold. This volume
containing fome Letters from noblemen,
Pope incited a proiecution againft him in the
Houfe of Lords for breach of privilege, and
attended himfelf to ilimulate the refentment
of his friends. Car// appeared at the bar,
and, knowing himfeif in no gnat danger,
fpoke of Pope with very little reverence.
He has, laid Curll, a knack at verifying, Lut
in profe I think my f elf a match Jor him. When.
the orders of the Houfe were examined, none
of them appeared to have been infringed ;
Curll went away triumphant, and Pope was
left to leek fome other remedy.

Curll's account was, that one evening a
man in a clergyman's gown, but with a
lawyer's band, brought and offered to lUc

a number

92 POP E.

a number- of printed volumes, which he
found to be Pope's epiftolary correfpondence;
that he afked no name, and was told none,
but gave the price demanded, and thought
himfelf authorifed to ufe his purchafe to his
own advantage.

That Curll gave a true account of the
tranfaction, it is reafonable to believe, becaufe
no falfhood was ever detected ; and when fome
years afterwards I mentioned it to Lintot, the
ion of Bernard, he declared his opinion to be,
that Pope knew better than any body elfe how
Curll obtained the copies, becaufe another
parcel was at the fame time fent to himfelf,
for which no price had ever been demanded,
as he made known his refolution not to pay
a porter, and confequently not to deal with a
namelefs agent.

Such care had been taken to make them
publick, that they were fent at once to two
bookfellers ; to Curll, who was likely to feize
them as a prey, and to Lintot, who might be
expected to give Pope information of the
feeming injury. Lintot, I believe, did no-
thing ; and Curll did v/hat was expected.

That

POPE. 93

That to make them publick was the only pur-
pofe may be reafcnably fuppofed, becaufe the
numbers offered to tale by the private mef-
fengers mewed that hope of gain could not
have been the motive of the impreffion.

It feems that Pope, being defirous of print-
in e his Letters, and not knowing how to do,
without imputation of vanity, what has in
this country been done very rarely, contrived
an appearance of compulfion ; that when he
could complain that his Letters were furrep-
titioufly published, he might decently and
defenfively publifh them himfelf.

Pope's private correfpondence, thus pro-
mulgated, filled the nation with praifes of his
candour, tendernefs, and benevolence, the
purity of his purpofes, and the fidelity of his
friendlhip. There were fome Letters which
a very good or a very wife man would wifh
lupprelled ; but, as they had been already
expofed, it was impracticable now to retract
them.

From the perufal of thofe Letters, Mr. Al-
len firft conceived the dcfire of knowing him -f
l and

94 POP E.

and with fo much zeal did he cultivate the
friendship which he had newly formed, that
when Pope told his purpofe of vindicating
his own property by a genuine edition, he
offered to pay the coil.

This however Pope did not accept ; but in
time folicited a fubfcription for a Quarto
volume, which appeared (1737) I believe,
with fufhcient profit. In the Preface he tells
that his Letters were repofited in a friend's
library, faid to be the Earl of Oxford's, and
that the copy thence ilolen was fent to the
prefs. The ftory was doubtlefs received with
different degrees of credit. It may be fufpecled
that the Preface to the Mifcellanies was writ-
ten to prepare the publick for fuch an inci-
dent • and to ftrengthen this opinion, James
Worfdale, a painter, who was employed in
clandeftine negotiations, but whofe veracity
was very doubtful, declared that he was the
merfenger who carried, by Pope's direction,
the bouks to Curll.

When they were thus published and avow-
ed, as they had relation to recent flifts, and
perfons either then living or not yet forgotten,

they

POPE. 95

they may be fuppofcd to have found readers ;
but as the facls were minute, and the cha-
racters being either private or literary, were
little known, or little regarded, they awakened
no popular kindnefs or refentment : the book
never became much the fubjed: of converfa-
tion ; fome read it as contemporary hiftory,
and fome perhaps as a model of epiftolary
language -, but thofe who read it did not talk
of it. Not much therefore was added by it
to fame or envy ; nor do I remember that it
produced either publick praife, or publick
cenfure.

It had however, in fome degree, the recom-
mendation of novelty. Our language has
few Letters, except thofe of ftatefmen. Hovvel
indeed, about a century ago, publimed his
Letters, which are commended by M.orhoffy
and which alone of his hundred volumes con-
tinue his memory. Loveday's Letters were
printed only once ; thofe of Herbert and
Suckling are hardly known. Mrs. Phillip's
\Qrinda s] are equally neglected -y and thofe
of WaliJi ieem written as exercifes, and were
never fent to any living miflrefs or friend.
Pope's epillolary excellence had an open

field 3

96 POPE.

field/ he- had no Englifh rival, living or
dead.

Pope is feen in this collection as connected
with the other contemporary wits, and cer-
tainly fuffers no dilgrace in the comparifon ;
but it mull be remembered, that he had the
power of favouring himielf : he might have
originally had publication in his mind, and
have writen with care, or have afterwards
felected thofe which he had molt happily con-
ceived, or moll diligently laboured ; and I
know not whether there does not appear fome-
thing more ftudied and artificial in his pro-
ductions than the reft, except one long Let-
ter by Bolingbroke, compofed with all the
fkill and induftry of a proferTed author. It
is indeed not eafy to diftinguim affectation
from habit ; he that has once ftudioufly
formed a flyle, rarely writes afterwards with
complete eafe. Pope may be faid to write al-
ways with his reputation in his head ; Swift
perhaps like a man v/ho remembered that he
\vas writing to Pope; but Arbuthnot like one
who lets thoughts drop from his pen as they
rife into his mind.

Before

P O

Before thefe Letters appeared, he published

the liril part of what he perfuaded himk-lf
to think a fyflem of E:'.: / . under the title
' ."..:. I :': M.7-: ; which, if his Letter to
Swift (of Sept. 14, 1725) be rightly explained
by the commentator^ had been eight years
under his confideration, and of which he
...us to have defired the fu< ; - \vith great
folicitude, He had now many open and
doubtlefs many lee ret enemk The Du?tces
;-e yet fmarting with the War; and the fu-
pericrity which he publickl" a^ogated, dif-
pofed the world to wiih his humiliation.

All this he knew, and . .n all this he
provided, His own name, and that of his
friend to whom the work is infcribed, were in
the firlt editions carefully luppreiTed; and the
poem, bei~2; of a new kind, was afcribed to
one cr another, as favour determined, or
conjecture wandered ; it was given, fays War-
burton, to every man, except him only who
could \vrite it. Thole who like only when
they like the author, and who are under the
dominion of a name, condemned it: and
thofe admired it who -are willing to fcatter

\ -L. IV. H praiie

POPE.

praife at random, which while it is unappro-
priated excites no envy. Thofe friends of
Pope, that were trufted with the fecret, went
about lavifhino: honours on the new-born

poet, and hinting that Pope was never f©
much in danger from any former rival.

To thofe authors whom he had perfonally
offended, and to thofe whofe opinion the
world confidered as decilive, and whom he
fufpe£ted of envy or malevolence, he fent his
cfTay as a prefent before publication, that they
might defeat their own enmity by praifes,
which they could not afterwards decently
retract.

With thefe precautions, in 1733 was pub-
limed the firftpart of the EffayonMan. There
had been for fome time a report that Pope
was bufy upon a Syftem of Morality; but this
deiign was not difcovered in the new poem,
which had a form and a title with which its
readers were unacquainted. Its reception was
not uniform ; fome thought it a very imper^
fed: piece, though not without good lines.
While the author was unknown, fome, as
will always happen, favoured him as an adven-
turer,

POPE. 99

turer; and fome cenfured him as an intruder ;
but all thought him above neglect ; the fale
increafed, and editions were multiplied.

The fubfequent editions of the firft Epiftle
exhibited two memorable corrections. At
firft,4 the poet and his friend

Expatiate freely o'er this fcene of mart,
A mighty maze of 'walks without apian*

For which he wrote afterwards,

A mighty maze, but not without a 'plan :

for, if there were no plan, it was in vain to
defcribe or to trace the maze.

The other alteration Was of thefe lines ;

And fpite of pride, and in thy reafon'sfpite,
One truth is clear, whatever is, is right :

but having afterwards difcovered, or been
fhewn, that the truth which fubfifted in fpite
ofreafon could not be very clear, hefubflituted

And fpite of pride, in erring reafonys fpite.

H 2 To

ioo POP E.

To fuch overfights will the moft vigorous
mind be liable, when it is employed at once
upon argument and poetry.

The fecond and third Epi files were pub-
lifhed -, and Pope was, I believe, more and
more fufpeded of writing them; at lafl, in
1734, he avowed the fourth, and claimed the
honour of a moral poet.

In the conclufion it is fufficientlv acknow-

ledged, that the doctrine of the Effay on Man
was received from Bolingbroke, who is faid to
have ridiculed Pope, among thofe who en-
joyed his confidence, as having adopted and
advanced principles of which he did not per-
ceive the confequence, and as blindly propa-
gating opinions contrary to his own. That
thofe communications had been consolidated
into a fcheme regularly drawn, and delivered
to Pope, from whom it returned only trans-
formed from profe to verfe, has been reported,
but hardly can be true. The EiTay plainly
appears the fabrick of a poet : what Boling-
broke fupplied could be only the firfl prin-
ciples ; the order, illuftration, and embel-
lifhments mull all be Pope's.

Thefe

POPE. joi

Thefe principles it is not my bufmefs to

clear from obfcurity, dogmatifm, or falfe-
hood -, but they were not immediately exa-
mined j philofophy and poetry have not of-
ten the lame readers ; and the Effay abound-
ed in fplendid amplifications and fparkling
fentences, which were read and admired,
with no great attention to their ultimate pur-
pofe ; its flowers caught the eye, which did
not fee what the gay foliage concealed, and
for a time flourifhed in the funfliine of uni-
verfal approbation. So little was any evil
tendency difcovered, .that, as innocence is
unfufpicious, many read it for a manual of
piety.

Its reputation foon invited a tranilator. It
was firft turned into French profe, and af-
terwards by Refnel into verfe. Both tranfla-
tions fell into the hands of Croufaz, who
firft, when he had the veriion in profe, wrote
a general cenfure, and afterwards reprinted
Kernel's verfion, with particular remarks up-
on every paragraph.

Croufaz was a profeiTor of Switzerland,
eminent for his treatife of Logick, and his

102

POPE.

Examen de Pyrrbonifme, and, however little
known or regarded here, was no mean anta-
gonifT:. His mind was one of thofe in which
philofophy and piety are happily united. He
was accuftomed to argument and difquifition,
and perhaps was grown too defirous of de-
tecting faults ; but his intentions were al-
ways right, his opinions were folid, and his
religion pure.

His inceffant vigilance for the promotion
of piety difpofed him to look with diftruft
upon all metaphyfical fyftems of Theology,
and all fchemes of virtue and happinefs pure-
ly rational ; and therefore it was not long be-
fore he was perfuaded that the petitions of
Pope, as they terminated for the moft part
in natural religion, were intended to draw
mankind away from revelation, and to re-
prefent the whole courfe of things as a necef-
fary concatenation of indiffoluble fatality;
and it is undeniable, that in many paiTages a
religious eye may eafily difcover expreffions
not very favourable to morals, or to liberty.

About this time Warburton began to
make his appearance in the firft ranks of

learning.

POPE. 103

learning. He was a man of vigorous facul-
ties, a mind fervid and vehement, fupplied

by inceilant and unlimited enquiry, with
wonderful extent and variety of knowledge,
which yet had not opprefled his imagination,
nor clouded his perfpicacity. To every work
Jie brought a memory full fraught, together
with a fancy fertile of original combinations,
and at once exerted the powers of the fcholar,
the reafoner, and the wit. But his knowledge
was too multifarious to be always exacl, and
his purfuits were too eager to be always cau-
tious. His abilities gave him an haughty
confidence, which he difdained to conceal or
mollify ; and his impatience of oppofition
difpofed him to treat his adverfaries with fuch
contemptuous fuperiority as made his readers
commonly his enemies, and excited againft
the advocate the wifhes of fome who favoured
the caiife. He feems to have adopted the
Roman Emperor's determination, odcrmt duni
metuant ; he ufed no allurements of gentle
language, but wimed to compel rather than
perfuade,

His fbyle is copious without feleclion, and
forcible without neatnefs ; he took the \\ urds

H 4 that

io4 POP E.

that prefented themfelves : his diction is
coarfe and impure, and his fentences are un-
meafured.

He had, in the early part of his life, pleafr
ed himfelf with the notice of inferior wits,
and correfponded with the enemies of Pope.
A Letter was produced, when he had per-
haps himfelf forgotten it, in which he tells
Concanen, fi Dryden / 'obferve borrows for
" want of leafure, and Pope for want of ge-
I'nius: Milton out of pride, and Addifon
" out ofmodefty." And when Theobald pub-
limed Shakefpeare, in oppofition to Pope, the
beft notes were fupplied by Warburton.

But the time was nowcome when Warbur-
ton was to change his opinion, and Pope was
to find a defender in him who had contributed
fo much to the exaltation of his rival.

The arrogance of Warburton excited again ft
him every artifice of offence, and therefore
it may be fuppofed that his union with Poce
was cenfured as hypocritical inconftancv ;
but furely to think differently, at different
times, of poetical merit, may be eaiily al-
lowed.

POPE. 105

lowed. Such opinions are often admitted,
and difmiffed, without nice examinati
Who is there that has not found rcafon for
changing his mind about queflions of greater
importance ?

Warburton, whatever was his motive,
undertook, without felicitation, to rcfcuc
Pope from the talons of Croufaz, by freeing
him from the imputation of favouring fatali-
ty, or rejecting revelation •, and from month
to month continued a vindication of the EJJay
on Man, in the literary journal of that time
called T/je Republic k of Letters.

Pope, who probably began to doubt the
tendency of his own work, was glad that the
petitions, of which he perceived himfclf not
to know the full meaning, could by any
mode of interpretation be made to mean
well. How much he was pleafed with his
gratuitous defender, the following Letter
Evidently Ihews :

" SIR, March 24, 1743.

" I have j nil received from Mr. R. t\vo
(* mere of your Letters. It is in the grcatcir.

" hi:

€f
t(
ft

tt
ft
ff

io6 POP E.

" hurry imaginable that I write this ; but I
" cannot help thanking you in particular
" for your third Letter, which is fo extreme-
" ly clear, mort, and full, that I think Mr.
Croufaz ought never to have another
anfwer, and deferved not fo good an one.
I can only fay, you do him too much
honour, and me too much right, fo odd
as the expreffion feems ; for you have
made my fyftem as clear as I ought to have
done, and could not. It is indeed the
fame fyftem as mine, but illustrated with
a ray of your own, as they fay our natural
body is the fame ftill when it is glorified.
I am fare I like it better than I did before,
and fo will every man elfe. I know I meant
juft what you explain ; but I did not ex-
plain my own meaning fo well as you.
You underftand me as well as I do myfelf;
but you exprefs me better than I could
exprefs myfelf. Pray accept the fincerefl
acknowledgements., I cannot but wifh
" thefe Letters were put together in one
Book, and intend (with your leave) to
procure a tranilation of part, at leaft, of all
*' of them into French ; but I {ball not pro-

3 «4 ceed

tt
ft

tt
tt
tt

te
tt

tt
tt

POPE.

107

" ceed a ftep without your confent and opi-
" nion, &c."

By this fond and ejigcr acceptance of .
exculpatory comment, Pope teftified that,
whatever might be the feeming or real im-
port of the principles which he had received
from Bolin^br \LC, he had not intentionally
:.::.. .ked religion ; and Boiingbroke, if he
meant to make him without his own con-
tent an inftrurnent of mifchief, found him
now engaged with his eyes open on the fide
of truth.

It is known that Boiingbroke concealed
from Pope his real opinions. He once dif-
covered them to Mr. Hooke, who related
them again to Pope, and was told bv him
that he muit have mil/taken the meaning
of what he heard 3' and Boiingbroke, when
Pope's uneafmeis incited him to defire an ex-
planation, declared that Hooke had mifunder-
ftcod him.

Boiingbroke hated VTarburton, who had
drawn his pupil from him ; and a little
before Pope's death they had a difpute,

from

,o8 POPE,

from which they parted with mutual a-
verfion.

From this time Pope lived in the clofeft
intimacy with his commentator, and. am-
ply rewarded his kindneis and his zeal •
for he introduced him to Mr. Murray, by
whofe intereft he became preacher at Lin-
coln's Inn, and to Mr. Allen, who gave him
his niece and his eilate, and by confequence
a bifhoprick . When he died, he left him the
property of his works ; a legacy which may
be reafonably eftimated at four thoufand
pounds.

Pope's fondnefs for the Effay on Man ap-
peared by his defire of its propagation . Dob-
ion, who had gained reputation by his verfion
of Prior's Solomon, was employed by him to
tranflate it into Latin vctfe, and was for that
purpofe fome time at Twickenham; but he
left his work, whatever was the reafon, un-
finiihed j and, by Benfon's invitation, under-
took the longer talk of Paradife Loft, Pope
then defired his friend to find a fcholar who
mould turn his EfTay into Latin profe; but
no fuch performance has ever appeared.

PC; DC

P OP E.

Pope lived at this time among the great,
with th.it reception and refpect to which his
works entitled him, and which he had not
impaired by any private mifcondudt or facti-
ous partiality. Though Bolingbroke was
his friend, Walpole was not his enemy ; but
treated him with fo much confederation as, at
his requeft, to iblicit and obtain from the
French Miniftcr an abbey for Mr. Southcot,
whom he confidered himielf as obliged to re-
ward, by this exertion of his intereil, for the
benefit which he had received from his at-
tendance in a lon illnefs.

It vras laid, that, when the Court was at
Richmond, Queen Caroline had declared her
intention to vilit him. This may have been
only a carekfs effuiion, thought on no more :
the report of fuch notice, however, was ibon
in many mouths ; and, if I do not forget
or mifapprehend Savage's account, Pope, pre-
tending to decline what was not yet offered,
left his houfe for a time, not, I fuppofe, for
any other reaibn than lefthefhould be thought
to ilay at home in expectation of an honour
whk-h .'.d not be conferred. He ^

therefore

no POP E.

therefore angry at Swift, who reprefents hirri
as refufing the vijits of a Qtieen, becaufe he
knew that what had never been offered, had
never been refufed.

Betide the general fyftern of morality fup-
pofed to be contained in the Effay on Man, it
was his intention to write diftind: poems up-
on the different duties or conditions of life ;
one of which is the Epiftle to Lord Bathurft
(1733) on the Ufe of Riches, a piece on which
he declared great labour to have been be-
flowed * .

Into this poem fome incidents are hiftori-
cally thrown, and fome known characters
are introduced, with others of which it is
difficult to fay how far they are real or ficti-
tious ; but the praife of Kyrl, the Man ofRofs,
deferves particular examination, who, after
a long and pompous enumeration of his
publick works and private charities, is faid to
have diffufed all thofe bleffings from Jive hun-
dred a year. Wonders are willingly told,
and willingly heard. The truth is, that Kyrl

* Spence.

was

POPE.

1 1 1

was a man of known integrity, and a<ftive
benevolence, by whofe felicitation the wealthy
were perfuaded to pay contributions to his
charitable fchemes -, this influence he obtain-
ed by an example of liberality exerted to the
utmoft extent of his power, and was thus
enabled to give more than he had. This ac-
count Mr. Viftor received from the minifter
of the pkce, and I have preferved it, that
the praife of a good man being made more
credible, may be more folid. Narrations of
romantick and impracticable virtue will be
read with wonder, but that which is unat-
tainable is recommended in vain •> that good
may be endeavoured, it muft be mewn to be
pomble.

This is the only piece in which the author
has given a hint of his religion, by ridicu-
ling the ceremony of burning the pope, and
by mentioning with fome indignation the in-
fcription on the Monument.

When this poem was firft publimed, the
dialogue, having no letters of direction, was
perplexed and obfcure. Pope feems to have
written with no very diflindt idea ; for he

calls

ii2 POPE.

calls that an Epiftle to Batburft, in which
Bathurft is introduced as fpeaking.

He afterwards (1734) inscribed to Lord
Cobham his Characters of Men, written with
clofe attention to the operations of the mind
and modifications of life. In this poein he
has endeavoured to eftablifh and exemplify
his favourite theory of the Ruling Paffion, by
\vhich he means an original direction of de-
fire to fome particular object, an innate af-
fection which gives all action a determinate
and invariable tendency, and operates upon
the whole fyftem of life, either openly, or
more fecretly by the intervention of fome ac-
cidental or fubordinate propenfion*

Of any pamon, thus innate and irrefifli-
ble, the exigence may reafonably be doubted.
Human characters are by no means conftant 3
men change by change of place, of fortune,
of acquaintance 3 he who is at one time a
lover of pleafure, is at another a lover of
money. Thofe indeed who attain any excel-
lence, commonly fpend life in one purfuit ;
for excellence is not often gained upon eafier
terms. But to the particular fpecies of ex-
cellence

POPE. u3

cellence men are directed, not by an afcen-
dant planet or predominating humour, but
by the firfl book which they read, fome early
converfation which they heard, or fome acci-
dent which excited ardour and emulation.

It muH: be at leaft allowed that this ruling
Pajfiojjy antecedent to reafon and obfervation,
muft have an object independent on human
contrivance -, for there can be no natural de-
fire of artificial good. No man therefore can
be born, in the fhrict acceptation, a lover of
money ; for he may be born where money
does not exifl ; nor can he be born, in a moral
fenfe, a lover of his country; for fociety,
politically regulated, is a {late contradiilin-
guifhed from a flate of nature ; and any at-
tention to that coalition of interefls which
makes the happinefs of a country, is poffible
only to thofe whom enquiry and reflection
have enabled to comprehend it.

This doctrine is in itfelf pernicious as well
as falfe : its tendency is to produce the belief
of a kind of moral predeflination, or over-
ruling principle which cannot be refilled ; he
that admits it, is prepared to comply with

VOL, IV, I every

114-

POPE.

every defire that caprice or opportunity mall
excite, and to flatter himfelf that he fubmits
only to the lawful dominion of Nature, in
obeying the reiifllefs authority of his ruling
Paffifln.

Pope has formed his theory with fo little
fkill, that, in the examples by which he il-
lultrates and confirms it, he has confounded
pafiions, appetites, and habits.

To the Cbara&ers of Men he added foon
after, in an Epiftle fuppofcci to have been ad-
drcliedto Martha Elount, but which the 1 aft
edition has taken from her, the Characters of
V/uinen . This poem , which was laboured with
great diligence, and in the author's opinion
with great fuccefs, was neglected at its fir ft
publication, as the commentator fuppofes,
becaufe the publick was informed by an ad-
vcrtifement, that it contained no Character
drawnffom the Life-, an aiTertion which Pope
probably did not expect or wiih to have been
believed, and which he foon gave his readers

licient rcuibn to diilruft, by telling them
in :'. note, that the Work was imperfect, be-
caui-.; ])art of his fu.bjedt was Vice too high to
be yet expofed.

The

P OPE. n5

The time however foon came, in which it
Was fafe to difplay the Dutchefs of Marlbo-
ro ugh under the name of At off a ; and her
character was inferted with no great honour
to the writer's gratitude,

He published from time to time (between
1730 and 1740) Imitations of different po-
ems of Horace, generally with his name,
and once as Was fufpected without it. What
he was upon moral principles afhamed to own,
he ought to have fuppreiTed. Of thefe pieces
it is uielefs to fettle the dates, as they had
feldorn much relation to the times, and per-
haps had been long in his hands.

This mode of imitation, in which the an-
cients are familiarifed, by adapting their fen-
timents to modern topicks, by making Horace
fay of Shakfpeare what he originally faid of
Ennius, and accommodating his fatires on
Pantolabus and Ncmentanus to the flatterers
and prodigals of our own time, was firfl prac-
tifed in the feign of Charles the Second by
Oldham and Rocheiler, at lead: I remember
no infbnces more ancient. It is a kind of

I 2 middle

n6 P, O P E.

middle compofition between tranflation an.d
original defign, which pleafes when the
thoughts are unexpectedly applicable, and the
parallels lucky. It feems to have been Pope's
favourite amufement ; for he has carried it
further than any former poet.

He published likewife a revival, in fmoother
numbers, of Dr. Donne's Satires, which was
recommended to him by the Duke of Shrewf-
bury and the Earl of Oxford. They made
no great impreffion on the publick. Pope
feems to have known their imbecillity, and
therefore fupprefled them while he was yet
contending to rife in reputation, but ven-
tured them when he thought their deficien-

cies more likely to be imputed to Donne than
to himfelf.

ThcEpiftle to Dr. Arbuthnot, which feems
to be derived in its iirft defiffn from Boileau's

Addreis a Jon Efprit, was publiihedin Janu-
ary 1735, about a month before the death of
him to whom it is infcribed. It is to be re-
gretted that either honour or pleafure mould
have been miffed by Arbuthnot ; a man efti-
mable for his learning, amiable for his life,
and venerable for his piety,

Arbuth-

POPE. n;

Arbuthnot was a man of great compre-
henlion, Ikilful in his profefiion, verfed in
the fciences, acquainted with ancient litera-
ture, and able to animate his mafs of know-
ledge by a bright and active imagination ; a
fcholar with great brilliancy of wit ; a wit,
who, in the crowd of life, retained and difco-
vered a noble ardour of religious zeal.

In this poem Pope feems to reckon with
the publick. Revindicates himfelf from cen-
fures ; and with dignity, rather than arro-
gance, enforces his own claims to kindnefs
and refpect.

Into this poem are interwoven feveral pa-
ragraphs which had been before printed as a
fragment, and among them the fatirical lines
upon Addifon, of which the laft couplet has
been twice corrected. It was at nrft,

Who would not fmile if fuch a man there be ?
Who would not laugh if Addifon were he ?

Then,

Who would not grieve if fuch a man there be ?
Who would not laugh if Addifon were he ?

I 7 At

POPE.

At laft it is,

\Vho but muft laugh if fuch a man there be ?
\Yho would not weep if Atticus were he ?

He was at this time at open war with Lord
Hervey, who had dillinguifhed himfelf as a
/teady adherent to the Miniftry ; and, being
offended with a contemptuous anfwer to one
of his pamphlets, had fummoned Pulteney
to a duel. Whether he or Pope made the
firft attack, perhaps cannot now be eafily
known : he had written an invective a^ainfl

Pope, whom he calls, Hard as thy heart, and
as thy birth objcure$ and hints that his father
was a hatter. To this Pope wrote a reply in
vcife and profe : the verfes are in this poem 5
<md the profe, though it was never fent, is
printed among his Letters, but to a cool reader
of the prefent time exhibits nothing but te-
dious malignity.

His lafl Satires, of the general kind, were
t\vo Dialogues, named from the year in which
they were publimed Seventeen Hundred and
Thirty-eight. In thefe poems many are praifed
and many are reproached. Pope was then

entangled

POPE. IT?

entangled in the oppofition ; a follower of
the Prince of Wales, who dined at his houlo,
and the friend of many who obllrucled ;m<l
cenfured the conduct of the Minifters. His
political partiality was too plainly fhewn ; he
forgot the prudence with which he paffed, in
his earlier years, uninjured and unoffending
through much more violent conflicts of
faction.

In the firfr. Dialogue, having an opportu-
nity of praifing Allen of Bath, he aiked his
leave to mention him as a man not illuflrious
by any merit of his anceftors, and called him
in his verfes low -born Allen. Men are feldom
iatisfied with pnuie introduced or followed by
any mention of defect. Allen feems not to
have taken any pleafure in his epithet, which
was afterwards foftened into humble Allen.

In the fecond Dialogue he took fome liberty
with one of the Foxes, among others ; which
Fox, in a reply to Lyttclton, took an oppor-
tunity of repaying, by reproaching him with
the friendfhip of a lampooner, who {battered
his ink without fear or decency, and again il
whom he hoped the rcfentment of the Legi na-
ture would quickly be difchargec!.

I 4 About

120 POP E.

About this time Paul Whitehead, a fmail
poet, was fummoned before the Lords for a
poem called Manners, together with Dodfley
his publifher. Whitehead, who hung loofe
upon fociety, fculked and efcaped ; but
Dodfley's ihop and family made his appear-
ance neceflary. He was, however, ibon dif-r
mi/Ted ; and the whole procefs was probably
intended rather to intimidate Pope than to
punifh Whitehead.

Pope never afterwards attempted to join
the patriot with the poet, nor drew his pen
upon ftatefmen. That he defifted from his
attempts of reformation is imputed, by his
commentator, to his defpair of prevailing
over the corruption of the time. He was not
Jikcly to have been ever of opinion that the
dread of his fatire would countervail the love
of power or of money • he pleafed himfelf
with being important and formidable, and
gratified fometimes his pride, and fometimes
his refentment; till at laft he began to
think he mould be more fafe, if he were
lefs bufy.

The

POPE. 121

The Memoirs ofScriblerus, published about
this time, extend only to the firft book of a
work, projected in concert by Pope, Swift,
and Arbuthnot, who ulcd to meet in the
time of Queen Anne, and denominated them-
felves the Scriblerus Club. Their purpofe
was to cenfure the ahufes of learning by a
fictitious Life of an infatuated Scholar. They
were difperfed ; the defign was never com-
pleted -3 and Warburton laments its mifcar-
riage, as an event very dilailrous to polite
letters.

If the whole may be eftimated by this fpc-
cimen, which feems to be the produ6Hon of
Arbuthnot, with a few touches perhaps by
Pope, the want of more will not be much la-
mented ; for the follies which the writer ri-
dicules are fo little pradtifcd, that they are
not known; nor can the fatire be underilood
but by the learned : he raifes phantoms of
abfurdity, and then drives them away. He
cures difeafes that were never felt.

For this reafon this joint production of
three great writers has never obtained any

notice

122 POP E.

notice from mankind ; it has been little read,
or when read has been forgotten, as no
man could be wifer, better, or merrier, by
remembering it.

The delign cannot boaft of much origina-
lity -, for, befides its general refemblance to
Don Quixote, there will be found in it parti-
cular imitations of the Hiftory of Mr. Oifffle.

Swift carried fo much of it into Ireland as
fupplied him with hints for his Travels ; and
with thofe the world might have been con-
tented, though the reft had been fupprerTed.

Pope had fought for images and fentiments
in a region not known to have been explored
by many other of the Englim writers ; he
had confulted the modern writers of Latin
poetry, a clafs of authors whom Boileau en-
deavoured to bring into contempt, and who
•are too generally neglected. Pope, however,
was not afhamed of their acquaintance, nor
ungrateful for the advantages which he might

O O

have derived from it. A fmall feledtion from
the Italians who wrote in Latin had been
juibliihai at London, about the tetter end of

the

POPE. 123

the laft century, by a man who concealed
his name, but whom his Preface lliexvs to
have been well qualified for his undertakin
This collection Pope amplified by more than
half, and (1740) published it in two volumes,
but injurio Lilly omitted his precleceiTor's pre-
face. To thefe books, which had nothing

but the mere text, no regard was paid, the
authors were ftill neglected, and the editor
was neither praifed nor cenfured.

He did not link into idlenefs j he had
planned a work, which he confidered as fub-
fequent to his Ejfay en Miin, of which he has
given this account to Dr. Swift.

" March 2;, 17 :6.

*s i

" If ever I write any more Epiilles in vcn .
'f one of them mall be addrenecl to yon.
*' I have long concerted it, and begun it;
" but I v.-ould make what bears your name
*' as nnifhed as my lafl work ought to be,
" that is to fay, more finished than an;.
" the reft. The fubjedl is large, and \vill
" divide into four Epiftles, wtich naturally
" follow the EJfay on Man, viz. i. Of the
fl Extent and Limits of Human Reafon :

" Science.

124 POP E.

" Science. 2. A View of the ufeful and
" therefore attainable, and of the unufeful
«« and therefore unattainable Arts. 3. Of
the Nature, Ends, Application, and Ufe
of different Capacities. 4. Of the Ufe of
Learning, of the Science, of the World,
tc and of Wit. It will conclude with a
fatire againft theMifapplication of allthefe,
exemplified by Pictures, Characters, and
Examples."

i i

(I
t(
(t

This work in its full extent, being now
afflicted with an afthma, and rinding the'
powers of life gradually declining, he had no
longer courage to undertake: but, from the
materials which he had provided, he added,
at Warburton's requeft, another book to the
Dunciady of which the defign is to ridicule
fuch ftudies as are either hopelefs or ufelefs,
as either purfue what is unattainable, or what,
if it be attained, is of no ufe.

When this book was printed (1742) the
laurel had been for fome time upon the head
of Cibber , a man whom it cannot be fup-
pofed that Pope could regard with much
kindnefs or efteem, though in one of the
2 Imitations

P O E. 125

Imitations of Horace he has liberally enough

• o

praifed the Car clefs Hujband. In the D unclad,
among other worthlefs fcribblers, he had
mentioned Gibber ; who, in his Apology,
complains of the great poet's unkindnefs as
more injurious, becaufe, fays he, Inever&pve
offended him.

«v

It might have been expected that Pope
iliould have been, in fome degree, mollified by
this fubmiffive gentlenefs j but no fuch con-
fequence appeared. Though he condefcend-
ed to commend Gibber once, he mentioned
him afterwards contemptuouily in one of
his Satires, and again in his Epiftle to Ar-
buthnot j and in the fourth book of the
Duticiad attacked him with acrimony, to
which the provocation is not eafily diico-
verable. Perhaps he imagined that, in ridi-
culing the Laureat, he fatirifed thofe by
whom the laurel had been given, and gratifi-
ed that ambitious petulance with v, hich he
affected to inlult the ereat.

. t-s

The feverity of this fat ire left Gibber no.
longer any patience. He had confidence
enough in his own powers to believe that lu

could

126 POP E.

could diihirb the quiet of his adverfary, and
doubtlefs did not want inftigators, who,
without any care about the victory, defired
to amufe thcmfelves by looking on the con-
teft. He therefore gave the town a pam-
phlet, in which he declares his refolution
from that time never to bear another blow
without returning it, and to tire out his ad-
verfary by perfeverance, if he cannot conquer
him by ilrength.

The inccfiant and umppeaf.ble malignity
of Pope he imputes to a very diilant caufe,
After the Three Hours after Marriage had
been driven off the itage, by the otter, ce
which the mummy and crocodile gave the
\lience, while the exploded fcene was yet
iVeih in memory, it happened that Gibber
j :.;\ ;.d Biiyes in the Rcbearfal; and, as it had
been ufual to enliven the part by the men-
tion of any recent theatrical tranfadtions, he
faid, that he once thought to have intro-
duced his lovers diiVuifed in a Mummy and
a Crocodile. " This," fays he, " v .s re-
*' ceived with loud claps, which indicated
*' contempt of the. play." Pope, who v. .
behind the icenes, meeting him as he left the

itage,

P O P E. 127

ftage, attacked him, as he fays, with all the
virulence of a Wit out ofbisfenfes; to which he
replied, " that he would take no other notice
" of what was faid by fo particular a man
" than to declare, that, as often as he play-
" ed that part, he would repeat the fame
" provocation."

He mews his opinion to be, that Pope was
one of the authors of the play which he fo
zealoufly defended ; and adds an idle ftory of
Pope's behaviour at a tavern.

The pamphlet was written with little power
of thought or language, and, if fuffered to
remain without notice, would have been
very foon forgotten. Pope had now been
enough acquainted with human life to know,
if his paflion had not been too powerful for
his understanding, that, from a contention
like his with Gibber, the world feeks nothing
but diveriion, which is given at the expence
of the higher character. When Gibber lam-

pooned Pope, curiofity was excited ; what
Pope would fay of Cobber nobody enquired,
but in hope that Pope's afperity might betray
his pain and lelTen his dignity.

i .:3 P O P E,

He fhould therefore have fuffered the pam-
phlet to flutter and die, without confeffing
that it flung him. The dishonour of being
(hewn as Gibber's antagonift could never be
compenfated by the victory. Gibber had
nothing to lofe -, when Pope had exhaufted
all his malignity upon him, he would rife in
the efteem both of his friends and his enemies.
Silence only could have made him defpicable;
the blow which did not appear to be felt,
would have been fbuck in vain.

But Pope's irafcibility prevailed, and he
refolved to tell the whole Englifh world that
he was at war with Gibber ; and to mew that
he thought him no common adverfary, he
prepared no common vengeance; he publifh-
ed a new edition of the Hvnciad, in which
he degraded Theobald from his painful pre-
eminence, and enthroned Gibber in his ftead.
Unhappily the two heroes were of oppoiite
characters, and Pope was unwilling to lofe
what he had already written ; he has there-
fore depraved his poem by giving to Gibber
the old books, the cold pedantry and fluggifli
pertinacity of Theobald,

Pope

POPE. 12$

Pope was ignorant enough of his own in-
tereft., to make another change, and intro-
duced Ofborne contending for the prize among
the bookfellers. Oiborne was a man intireh
deftitute of mame, without fenfe of any dif-
grace but that of poverty. He told me, when
he was doing that which raifed Pope's re-
fentment, that he mould be put into the
Dunciad-y but he had the fate of CaJJ'andra-,
I gave no credit to his prediction, till in time
I faw it accomplimed. The fhafts of fatire
were directed equally in vain againfr. Gibber
and Oiborne ; being repelled by the impene-
trable impudence of one, and deadened by
the impafiive dulnefs of the other, Pope
confeiied his own pain by his anger 3 but he
gave no pain to thofe who had provoked
him. He was able to hurt none but him-
felf ; by transferring the fame ridicule from
one to another, he deftroyed its efficacy ; for,
by {hewing that what he had faid of one he
was ready to fay of another, he reduced
himfelf to the infignificance of his own
magpye, who from his cage calls cuckold at
a venture, »

VOL. IV. K Gibber,

1 30

POPE.

Gibber, according to his engagement, re-
paid the Dunciad with another pamphlet,
which, Pope faid, would be as good as a dofe
of kartfoorn to him ; but his tongue and his
heart were at variance. I have heard Mr.
Richardfon relate, that he attended his father
the painter on a vifit, when one of Gibber's
pamphlets came into the hands of Pope, who
faid, I'befe things are my diverfion. They fat
by him while he perilled it, and faw his fea-
tures writhen with anguim; and young Rich-
ardfon faid to his father, when they returned,
that he hoped to be prefcrved from fuch diver-
lion as had been thut day the lot of Pope.

From this time, finding his difeafes more
oppreffive, and his vital powers gradually de-
clining, he no longer itrained his faculties
with any original compoiitiori, nor propofed
any other employment for his remaining life
than the revifal and correction of his former
works ; in which he received advice and af-
iifbnce from Warburton, whom he appears
to have trotted and honoured in the higheil:
Degree.

POPE. I3I

He laid slide his Epick Poem, perhaps
without much lofs to mankind; for his hero
was Brutus the Trojan, who, according to a
ridiculous fiction, eftablifhed a colony in Bri-
tain. The fubject therefore was of the fabu-
lous age; the actors were a race upon whom
imagination has been exhauiled, and attention
wearied, and to whom the mind will not
ealily be recalled, when it is invited in blank
verfe, which Pope had adopted with great
imprudence, and, I think, without due conii-
denition cf the nature of our language. The
{ketch is, at leaft in part, preferved by RurF-
head; by which it £ , that Pope was

thoughtless enough to model the names of
his her- . - ith terminations not confident
with the time or country in which he places
them.

He lingered through the next veir ; but
perceived:. .... as he exp re ;":"-: it, :".:':g

-.•jn the bill. He had for it lc_.": five years
been amicted v\~ith an ai.'. . and ether dif-
crders, which his phyficia:.: v ere .. :ible to
relieve. Towards the end of his life he con-
fulted Dr. Th: , a man who had, b

large promifcs pdi -.- furcs't^ the cora-

i32 POPE.

mon practice of phyfick, forced himfelf up
into fudden reputation. Thomfon declared
his diftempcr to be a dropfy, and evacuated
part of the water by tincture of jalap; but
conferled that his belly did not fubfide.
Thomfon had many enemies, and Pope was
pcrfuaded to difmifs him.

While he was yet capable of amufement
and converiation, as he was one day fitting
in the air with Lord Bolingbroke and Lord
Marchmont, he faw his favourite Martha
Blount at the bottom of the terrace, and
:ifked Lord Bolingbroke to go and hand her
up. Bolingbroke, not liking his errand,
crofTeil his- legs, and fat ftill ; but Lord
Marchmont, who was younger and lefs cap-
tious, waited on the Lady ; who, when he
came to her, afked, What, is be not dead yet?
She is faid to have neglected him, with
mameful unkindnefs, in the latter time of
his decay; yet, of the little which he had
to leave, me had a very great part. Their
acquaintance began early ; the life of each
was pictured on the other's mind ; their con-
verfation therefore was endearing, for when,
they met, there was an immediate coalition

POPE. ]

of congenial notions. Perhaps he confidcr-
«d her unwillingnefs to approach the cham-
ber of ficknefs as female weaknefs, or human
frailty; perhaps he was confcious to himfclf
of peevifhnefs and impatience, or, though
he was offended by her inattention, might
yet confider her merit as overbalancing her
fault ; and, if he had fuffered his heart to
be alienated from her, he could have found
nothing that might fill her place ; he could
have only fhrunk within himfelf ; it was too
late to transfer his confidence or fondnefs.

In May 1744, his death was approach-
ing*; on the fixth, he was all day delirious,
which he mentioned four days afterwards as
a iufficient humiliation of the vanity of man ;
he afterwards complained of feeing things
as through a curtain, and in falfe colours ;
and one day, in the prefence of Dodfley,
aifked what arm it was that came out from
the wall. He faid that his greateft inconve-
nience was inability to think.

Bolingbroke fometimes wept over him in
this Hate of helplefs decay ; and being told

* Spence.

POPE.

by Spence, that Pope, at the intermiffion of
his delirioufnefs, was always faying fome-
thing kind either of his prefent or abfent
friends, and that his humanity feemed to
have furvived his underflanding, anfwered,
It hasfo. And added, I never in my life knew
a man that had fo tender a heart for his parti-
cular friends , or more general friendJJnp for
mankind. At another time he faid, / have
known Pope thefe thirty years, and value my-
fclfmore in his friendfiip than — his grief then
fupprefled his voice.

Pope exprefled undoubting confidence of
a future ftate. Being afked by his friend Mr.
Hooke, a papift, whether he would not die
like his father and mother, and whether a
pried mould not be called, he anfwered, /
do not think it eflential, but it will be very
right ; and I thank you for putting me in
mind of it i

In the morning, after the prieft had given
him the lail facraments, he faid, " There is
" nothing that is meritorious but virtue and

friendship, and indeed friendfhip itfelf is

only a part of virtue."

POPE. 135

He died in the evening of the thirtieth duy
of May, 1744, fo placidly, that the atten-
dants did not difcern the exact time of hh
expiration. He was buried at Twickenham,
near his father and mother, where a monu-
ment has been erected to him by his com-
mentator, the Bifhop of Gloucefter.

He left the care of his papers to his exe-
cutors, riril to Lord Bolingbroke, and if he
mould not be living to the Earl of March-
mont, undoubtedly expecting them to be
proud of the truft, and eager to extend his
fame. But let no man dream of influence
beyond his life. After a decent time Dodfley
the bookfeller went to folicit preference as the
publifher, and was told that the parcel had not
been yet infpecled; and whatever was the rea-
fon, the world has been dlfappointed of what
was referred for the next age.

He lore, indeed, the favour of Bolingbroke
by a kind of poflhumous offence. The po-
litical pamphlet called The Patriot King had
been put into his hands that he might pro-
cure the impreffion of a very few copies, to

K4 be

136 POP E,

be diftributed according to the author's direc-
tion among his friends, and Pope allured
him that no more had been printed than were
allowed ; but, foon after his death, the prin-
ter brought and refigned a complete edition
of fifteen hundred copies, which Pope had
ordered him to print, and to retain in fecret.
He kept, as was obferved, his engagement
to Pope better than Pope had kept it to his
friend j and nothing was known of the tranf-
action, till, upon the death of his employer,
he thought himfelf obliged to deliver the
books to the right owner, who, with
great indignation, made a fire in his yard,
and delivered the whole impreffion to the
flames.

Hitherto nothing had been done which was
not naturally dictated by refentment of vio-
lated faith ; refentment more acrimonious,
as the violator had been more loved or more
trufled. But here the anger might have
flopped; the injury was private, and there
was little danger from the example.

Bolingbroke, however, was not yet fatif-
fied ; his thirft of vengeance excited him to

blaft

POPE. I37

blaft the memory of the man over whom he
had wept in his Lift ftruggles ; and he cm-
ployed Mallet, another friend of Pr
tell the tale to the publick, with all its ;.L
vations. Warburton, whofe heart \vas war.
with his legacy, and tender by the recent re-
paration, thought it proper for him to in-
terpofe; and undertook, not indeed to vindi-
cate the action, for breach of truft has al-
ways fomething criminal, but to extenuate
it by an apology. Having advanced., what
cannot be denied, that moral obliquity is
made more or lefs excufable by the motives
that produce it, he enquires what evil pur-
pofe could have induced Pope to break his
promife. He could not delight his vanity by
ufurping the work, which, though not fold
in {hops, had been ihewn to a number more
than fufficient to preferve the author's
claim ; he could not gratify his avarice ;
for he could not fell his plunder till Bo-
lingbroke v/as dead ; and even then, if the
copy was left to another, his fraud would
be defeated, and if left to himfelf, would
]pe ufelefs.

Warburton

138 POP E.

Warburton therefore fuppofes, with great
appearance of reafon, that the irregularity
of his conduct proceeded wholly from his
zeal for Bolingbroke, who might perhaps
have deftroyed the pamphlet, which Pope
thought it his duty to preferve, even with-
out its author's approbation. To this apo-
logy an anfvver was written in a Letter to the
mojl impudent man living*

He brought fome reproach upon his own
memory by the petulant and contemptuous
mention made in his will of Mr. Allen, and
an affected repayment of his benefactions.
Mrs. Blount, as the known friend and fa-
vourite of Pope, had been invited to the
houfe of Allen, where me comported herfelf
with fuch indecent arrogance, that {he part-
ed from Mrs. Allen in a irate of irreconcile-
ablc diflike, and the door was for ever barred
againft her. This exclufion me refented
with fo much bitternefs as to refuie any le-
gacy from Pope, unlefs he left the world
vith a difavowal of obligation to Allen,
Having been long under her dominion, now

tottering

POPE. I39

tottering in the decline of lifp, and unable
to refift the violence of her temper, or, per-
haps with the prejudice of a lover, periliad-
ed that {he had fuffered improper treatment,
he complied with her demand, and pol-
luted his will with female refentment. Allen
accepted the legacy, which he gave to the
Hofpital at Bath ; obferving that Pope was
always a bad accomptant, and that if to
1507. he had put a cypher more, he had
come nearer to the truth,

THE

POPE,

THE perfon of Pope is well known not
to hr.ve been formed by the niceft model.
He has, in his account of the Little Club,
compared himfelf to a fpider, and by another
is deicribed as protuberant behind and before.
He is iaid to have been beautiful in his in-
fancy; but he was of a conftitution originally
feeble and weak ; and as bodies of a tender
frame are eaiily diftorted, his deformity was
probably in part the efFedt of his application.
His ftature was fo low, that, to bring him
to a level with common tables, it was necef-
fary to raife his feat. But his face was
not difpleafmg, and his eyes were animated
and vivid.

By natural deformity, or accidental diftor-
tion, his vital functions were fo much dif-
ordered, that his life was a long difeafe. His
m-'ft frequent affailant was the headach,
which he ufed to relieve by inhaling the

fleam

POPE. I4I

fleam of coffee, which he very frequently
required.

Moil of what can be told concerning his
petty peculiarities was communicated by a
female domeftick of the Earl of Oxford, who
knew him perhaps after the middle of life.
He was then fo weak as to fland in perpetual
need of female attendance ; extremely fenfi-
ble of cold, fo that he wore a kind of fur
doublet, under a fhirt of very coarfe warm
linen with fine fleeves. When he rofe, he
wras inverted in boddice made of ftiff canvafs,
being fcarce able to hold himfelf erect till
they were laced, and he then put on a flan-
nel waiftcoat. One fide was contracted. His
legs were fo flender, that he enlarged their
bulk with three pair of ftockings, which
were drawn on and off by the maid -, for he
Was not able to drefs or undrefs himfelf, and
neither went to bed nor rofe without help.
His weaknefs made it very difficult for him
to be clean.

His hair had fallen almort all away ; and
hs ufed to dine fometimes with Lord Ox-
ford, privately, in a velvet cap. His drefs

142 POP E.

of ceremony was black with a tye-wig, and
a little fword.

The indulgence and accommodation which
his ficknefs required, had taught him all the
unpleafmg and unfocial qualities of a valetu-
dinary man. He expected that every thing
mould give way to his eafe or humour, as a
child, whofe parents will not hear her cry,
has an unrefifted dominion in the nurfery.

C'eft que I' enfant toujours eft bomme,
C'eft que I homme eft toujours enfant.

When he wanted to fleep he nodded in com-
pany ; and once {lumbered at his own table
while the Prince of Wales was talking of
poetry.

The reputation which his friendship gave,
procured him many invitations ; but he was
a very troublefome inmate. He brought no
fervant, and had fo many wants, that a nu-
merous attendance was fcarcely able to flip-
ply them. Wherever he was, he left no
room for another, becaufe he exacted the
attention, and employed the activity of the
whole family. His errands were fo frequent
2 and

POPE. 143

and frivolous, that the footmen in time avoid-
ed and neglected him •> and the Earl of Ox-
ford difcharged fome of the fcrvants for
their refolute refufal of his mefTages. The
maids, when they had neglected their buii-
nefs, alleged that they had been employed
by Mr. Pope. One of his conftant demands
was of coffee in the night, and to the woman
that waited on him in his chamber lie was
very burthenfome ; but he was careful to re-
compenfe her want of deep ; and Lord Ox-
ford's fervant declared, that in a houle where
her buimefs was to anfwer his call, llie would
not aik for wages.

He had another fault, eafily incident to
thofe who, furlc-ring much pain, thh.k them-
felves entitled to whatever pleafures they caji
fnatch. He was too indulgent to his appe-
tite ; he loved meat highly feaibned and of
ftrong tafte ; and, at the intervals of the
table, amufed himfelf with biicuits and dry
conferves. If he fat down to a variety of
diilicf, he would opprefs his ilomach with
repletion, and though he feemed angry when
a dram was offered him, did not forbear to
drink it. His friends, who knew the avenues

144 POPE.

to his heart, pampered him with prefents of
luxury, which he did not fufTer to Hand
neglected. The death of great men is not
always proportioned to the luftre of their
lives. Hannibal, fays Juvenal, did not perifh
by a javelin or a fword ; the Daughters of
Cannae were revenged by a ring. The death
of Pope was imputed by fome of his friends
to a filver faucepan, in which it was his de-
light to heat potted lampreys.

That he loved too well to eat, is certain -y
but that his fenfuality fhortened his life will
not be haftily concluded, when it is remem-
bered that a conformation fo irregular lafled
fix and fifty years, notwithstanding fuch per^
tinacious diligence of ftudy and meditation.

In all his intercourfe with mankind, he
had great delight in artifice, and endeavour-
ed to attain all his purpofes by indirect and
unfufpected methods. He hardly drank ted
'Without ajlratagem. If, at the houfe of his
friends, he wanted any accommodation, he
was not willing to afk for it in plain terms,,
but would mention it remotely as fomething
convenient ; though, when it was procured,
4 he

POPE. 145

he Toon made it appear for whofe fake it had
been recommended. Thus he teized Lord
Orrery till he obtained a fcreen. He pnlc-
tifed his arts on fuch fm^ll occaiions, that
Lady Bolingbroke ufed to f y, in a French
phrafe, that he plaid the politiciah about cab~
bages and turnips. His unjuftifiable iaipref-
fion of the Patriot King, as it can be imput-
ed to no particular mctive, mufh have pro-
ceeded from his general habit of fecrecy and
cunning ; he caught an opportunity of a fly
trick, and pleafed himfelf with the thought
of outwitting Bolingbroke.

In familiar or convivial converfation, it
does not appear that he excelled. He may-
be faid to have refembled Dryd^n, as Being
not one that was diftinguimed by vivacity in.
company. It is remarkable, that, fo near
his time, fo much mould be known of what
he has written, and fo little of what he has
faid : traditional memory retains no fallies of
raillery, nor fentences of obfervation; no-
thing either pointed or folid, either wife or
merry. One apophthegm only ftands upon
record. When an objection raifed againff
his infcription for Shukfpeare was defended

VOL. IV. L by

146 POPE.

by the authority of Patrick, he replied—
horrefco rcferens — that he 'would allow the pub-
lifoer of a Dictionary to know the meaning of a
Jingle 'word, but not of two words put together.

He was fretful, and eafily difpleafed, and
allowed himfelf to be capricioully refentful.
He would fometimes leave Lord Oxford
iilently, no one could tell why, and was to
be courted back by more letters and meflages
than the footmen were willing to carry.
The table was indeed infeiled by Lady Mary
Wortley, who was the friend of Lady Ox-
ford, and who, knowing his peeviihnefi,
could by no Intreaties be retrained from con-
tradicling him, till their difputes were fharp-
ened to fuch afperitv, that one or the other
quitted the houfe.

He fometimes condefcended to be jocular
with fervantsor inferiors ; but by no merri-
ment, either of others or his own, was he
ever feen excited to laughter.

Of his domeftick character, frugality was
a part eminently remarkable. Having de-
termined not to be dependent, he determined

not

POPE.

not to be in want, and therefore wife] and

rejected all temptations I

enceu::. :o his fortune. This ge-

- - • mull: be univerial" .
it fome times appeared in pet: .

any, fuch as the practice of

compofitions on the back of letter . as may

be feen in the remaining copy of the 1 . by

ich perhaps in five years rive .:igs were

laved -, or in a niggardly re:, ti :i of his

DC . i

friends, and fcantinefs of entertainment, as,

when he had two s in his houie, he would

let £t iupper a iingle pint upon the table ; and

ielf taken two final 1 g ' . fles wrc aid

retire, . ' -.tlemcn, i . ve n toyour

Yet he tells his friends, that he has

... . • .....

;/ .,,;-.. for a

K. :r.etimes, however, mr.dc a Iplendid
dinner, ar .- is laid to have \vanted no part of
the ikill or elegance which fuch performances
require. That this magnificence ihould be
often difplayed, that obilinate prudence with
which he conducted his affairs would not per-
mit ; for his revenue, certain and cafual, a-
mounted only to about eight hundred pounds

L 2 a year,

148 POP E.

a year, of which however he declares himfelf
able to affign one hundred to charity.

Of this fortune, which as it arofe from
publick approbation was very honourably
obtained, his imagination feems to have been
too full : it would be hard to find a man, fo
well entitled to notice by his wit, that ever
delighted fo much in talking of his money.
In his Letters, and in his Poems, his garden
and his grotto, his quincunx and his vines,
or fome hints of his opulence, are always to
be found. The great topick of his ridicule
is poverty ; the crimes with which he re-
proaches his antagonifts are their debts, their
habitation in the Mint, and their want of a
dinner. He feems to be of an opinion not
very uncommon in the world, that to want
money is to want every thing.

Next to the pleafure of contemplating his
pofleffions, feems to be that of enumerating
the men of high rank with whom he was
acquainted, and whofe notice he loudly pro-*
claims not to have been obtained by any prac-
tices of meannefs or fervility ; a boaft which
was never denied to be true, and to which very

few

POPE.

few poets have ever afpired. Pope never fet
genius to fale ; he never flattered thofe whom
he did not love, or praifed thofe whom he did
not eileem. Savage however remarked, that
he began a little to relax his dignity when he
wrote a diftich for his Highnefs s dog.

His admiration of the Great feems to have
increafed in the advance of life. He parTed
over peers and ftatefmen to infcribe his Iliad
to Congreve, with a magnanimity of which
the praife had been compleat, had his friend's
virtue been equal to his wit. Why he was
chofen for fo great an honour, it is not now
poffible to know ; there is no trace in literary
hiftory of any particular intimacy between
them. The name of Congreve appears in the
Letters among thofe of his other friends, but
without any obfervable distinction or con-
fequence.

To his latter works, however, he took care
to annex names dignified with titles, but was
not very happy in his choice ; for, except
Lord Bathurft, none of his noble friends were
fuch as that a good man would wifh to have
his intimacy with them known to pofterity :

L i he

i5o POPE.

he can derive little honour from the notice
of Cobham, Burlington, or Bolingbroke.

Of his focial qualities, if an eflimate be
made from his Letters, an opinion too fa-
vourable cannot eafily be formed ; they ex-
hibit a perpetual and unclouded effulgence
cf general benevolence, and particular fond-
nefs. There is nothing but liberality, gra-
titude, conftancy, and tendernefs. It has
been fo long faid as to be commonly believed,
that the true characters of men may be
found in their Letters, and that he who
writes to his friend lays his heart open be-
fore him. But the truth is, that fuch were
fimple friendihips of the Golden Age, and are
now the friendihips only of children. Very
few can boafl of hearts which they dare lay
open to themfelves, and of which, by what-
ever accident expofed, they do not fhun a
dJflincl and continued view • and, certainly,

nt we hide from ourfelves we do not mew
.to our friends. There is, indeed, no tran!-

'ion which offers ftronger temptations to
fallacy and fophiftication than epiftolary in-
tercourfc. In the eagernefs of converfation
the firft emotions of the mind often burft

out,

POPE. I51

out, before they are confidcrcd • in the
tumult of bufmefs, intereft and puilioii
have their genuine crfecl: ; but a friendly
Letter is a calm and deliberate perform-
ance, in the cool of leifure, in the
liillnefs of folitucle, and furely no man
fits down to depreciate by deiign his o\\ a
character.

Friendfhip has no tendency to fccure vera-
city 3 for by whom can a man fo much wiili
to be thought better than he is, as by him
whofe kindnefs he defires to gain or keep ?
Even in writing to the world there is lefs
conftraint ; the author is not confronted
with his reader, and takes his chance of ap-
probation among the different difpoiitions of
mankind ; but a Letter is addreffed to a
fingle mind, of which the prejudices and
partialities are known ; and mult therefore
pleafe, if not by favouring them, by for-
bearing to oppofc them,

To charge thofe favourable
tions, which (men give of their own min
with the guilt of hypocritical fal:'
would fliew more fevcrity tlvin I;n- v]

L ; 'I

I5a POPE.

The writer commonly believes himfelf. Al-
moft every man's thoughts, while they are
general, are right; and moft hearts are pure,
While temptation is away. It is enfy to
awaken generous fentiments in privacy 3 to
defpife death when there is no danger; to
?low with benevolence when there is nothing

to be given. While fuch ideas are formed
they are felt, and felf-love does not fufpeft
the gleam of virtue to be the meteor of
fancy.

If the Letters of Pope are confidered mere-
ly as compofitions, they feem to be preme-
dituted and artificial. It is one thing to write
becaufe there is fomething which the mind
wimes to difcharge, and another, to folicit
the imagination becaufe ceremony or vanity
requires fomething to be written. Pope
confeiles his early Letters to be vitiated with
affeftation and ambition : to know whether

t-L/

he difentangled himfelf from thefe perverters
of epiftoLiry integrity, his book and his life
muft be fet in comparifon.

One of his favourite topicks is contempt
pf his own poetry. For this, if it had been

real,,

POPE.

real, he would defervc no commendation, and
in this he was certainly not fmcere • for his
high value of himfelf was fufficiently obferv-
ed, and of what could he be proud but of his
poetry ? He writes, he fays, when be has jujt
-nothing elfe to do; yet Swift complains that
he was never at lei lure for converfation, be-
caufe he had always fome poetical fcheme in his
head. It was punctually required that his
writing-box mould be fet upon his bed be-
fore he rofe ; and Lord Oxford's domeftick
related, that, in the dreadful winter of Forty,
flie was called from her bed by him four times
in one night, to fupply him with paper, left
he fhould lofe a thought.

He pretends infenfibility to cenfure and
criticifm, though it was obferved by all who
knew him that every pamphlet difturbed his
quiet, and that his extreme irritability laid
him open to perpetual vexation ; but he
wimed to defpife his criticks, and therefore
hoped that he did defpife them.

As he happened to live in two reigns when
the Court paid little attention to poetry, he
nurfed in his mind a foolifh dileilcem of King?,

and

i54 POP E.

and proclaims that he never fees Courts. Yet a
little regard {hewn him by the Prince of Wales
melted his obduracy; and he had not much to
fay when he was afked by his Royal Highnefs,
bo~ii' be could ICTC aPrince while be dijliked Kings?

He very frequently profeffes contempt of
the world, and repreients himfelf as looking
on mankind, fometimes with gay indiffe-
rence, as on emmets of a hillock, below his
ferious attention; and fometimes with gloomy
indignation, as on monfters more worthy
of hatred than of pity. Thefe were difpofi-
tions apparently counterfeited. How could
he defpife thofe whom he lived by pleafmg,
and on whofe approbation his efteem of him-
felf was fuperftrudled ? Why mould he hate
thofe to whofe favour he owed his honour
and his eafe ? Of things that terminate in
human life, the world is the proper judge ; to
defpife its ientence, if it were poilible, is
•t j uft; and if it were jiiil, is not poilible.
Pope v/iu; far enough from this unreafonable
temper ; lie v/as fufficiently a fool to Fame,
fid hi : -.'it was that he pretended to ne-
i/jcc"l it. His levity and his iullennefs were
i -.]}' in his Letters -3 he palled through com-
mon

POPE. ,~

mon life, fometimes vexed, and fomfjtii;
pleafed, with the natural emotions of com-
mon men.

His fcorn of the Great is repeated too
often to be real ; no man thinks much of th.it
which he defpifes ; and a- i I .hoodisalw. ,
in danger of inconfiflcncy, he makes it hi
boafl at another time that he lives amons

them .

It is evident that his own importance f \vells
often in his mind. He is afraid of writing,

left the clerks of the Port-office il>culd know

his fecrets j he has many enemies ; he con ri-
ders himfelf as furrounded lv.- univerfal jea-
loufy; after many deaths, ana many di :>s,

twQortbreeoffts, fays he. ;;/«,• y f! brouo.

J J »' J O

together, not to flit y but to divert ourj •-, /://,/
the world too, if it pleafes ', and th'ry c.m
together, and flew lu&atfri
in fplte of all the fools in tbc ^jorliL All tl
while it was likely that the clerks didnol

his hand : he certainly hnd no r

* j

than a publick cliaracler like his i
excites, and with what degree of :
the wits might live, verv fi:\v wi
fools as ever to enquire.

156 POPE.

Some part of this pretended difcontent he
learned from Swift, and exprefles it, I think,
moft frequently in his correfpondence with
him. Swift's refentment was unreafonable,
but it was imcere ; Pope's was the mere mi-
mickry of his friend, a fiditious part which
he began to play before it became him. When
he was only twenty-five years old, he related
that a glut ojftudy and retirement had thrown
him on the world, and that there was danger
left a glut of the world Jhould throw him back
upon ftudy and retirement. To this Swift
anfwered with great propriety, that Pope
had not yet either a<fted or fuffered enough in
the world to have become weary of it. And,
indeed, it muft be fome very powerful reafon
that can drive back to folitude him who has
once enjoyed the pleafures of fociety.

In the Letters both of Swift and Pope there
appears fuch narrownefs of mind, as makes
them infenfible of any excellence that has
not fome affinity with their own, and con-
fines their efleem and approbation to fo fmall
a number, that whoever mould form his
opinion of the age from their reprefentation,

would

POPE. J57

would fuppofe them to have lived amidft ig-
norance and barbarity, unable to find among
their contemporaries either virtue or intelli-
gence, and perfecuted by thofe that could not
underftand them.

When Pope murmurs at the world, when
he profeffes con tempt of fame, when he fpcaks
of riches and poverty, of fuccefs and diiap-
pointment, with negligent indifference, he
certainly does not exprefs his habitual and
fettled fentiments, but either wilfully difguifes
his own character, or, what is more likely,
inverts himfelf with temporary qualities, and
failles out in the colours of the prefent mo-
ment. His hopes and fears, his joys and for-
rows, acted ftrongly upon his mind ; and if
he differed from others, it was not by care-
leflhefs ; he was irritable and refentful •, his
malignity to Philips, whom he had firlr, m
ridiculous, and then hated for being angry,
continued too long. Of his vain deli re to
make Bentle) contemptible, I never heard any
adequate reafon. He was fomctirnes wanton
in his attacks ; and, before Chandos, LuJy
VYortley, and Hill, was mean in his retreat.

The

i53 POPE.

The virtues which teem to have had moffc
of his afFedlion were liberality and fidelity of
friendihip, in which it does not appear that
he was other than he describes himfelf. His
fortune did not luifer his charity to be fplen-
did and confpicuous ; but he affifted Dodiley
with a hundred pounds, that he might open
a {hop j and of the fubfcription of forty
pounds a year that he railed for Savage, twenty
were paid by himfelf. He v/as accufed of
loving money, but his love was eagernefs to
gain, not folicitude to keep it.

In the duties of friendship he was zealous
and conftant : his early maturity of mind
commonly united him with men older than
himfelf, and therefore, without attaining any
confiderable lenp-th of life, he faw man v com-

o .

pan ions of his youth link into the grave ;
but it does not appear that he loft a {ingle
friend by coldnefs or by injury; thofe who
loved him once, continued their kindnefs.
His ungrateful mention of Allen in his will,
was the eflecl of his adherence to one whom
he had known much longer, and whom he
naturall v loved with Greater fondnefs. His

• o

violation

POP E. ls<)

violation of the truft rcpofed in him by Ho-
lingb.roke could have no motive inconlifl

with the warmed affedlion ; !K' c 'uher though;
the adlion fo near to indifferent that lie 1
got it, or ib laudable that he expedted his
friend to approve it.

It was reported, with fuch confi .. E a.s
alinoil to enforce belief, that in the paj i
intruftcd to his executors was found a <i
matory Life of Swift, which he had prepa
as an instrument of vengeance to be ufed, if
any provocation mould be ever given. About
this I enquired of the Earl of Marchmont,
who allured me that no luch piece \v.. ,ng
his remains.

The religion in which he lived and died
was that of the Church of Rome, to which
in his correfpondence with Racine he prof!
himfelf a iincere adherent. That he was not
fcrupuloufly pious in fome part of his L
is known by many idle and indecent applied-
tions of fentences taken from the Seriptui
a mode of merriment which a rood man
dreads for its profanenefs, and a wuty man
• difdains for its eafmefs and vulgarity.

160 .POPE.

to whatever levities he has been betrayed, it
does not appear that his principles were ever
corrupted, or that he ever loft his belief of
Revelation. The pofitions which he tranf-
mitted from Bolingbroke he feems not to have
underftood, and was pleafed with an inter-
pretation that made them orthodox.

A man of fuch exalted fuperiority, and fo
little moderation, would naturally have all his
delinquences obferved and aggravated : thofe
who could not deny that he was excellent,

would rejoice to find that he was not perfect.

Perhaps it may be imputed to the unwil-
lingnefs with which the fame man is allowed
to poflefs many advantages, that his learning
has been depreciated. He certainly was in
his early life a man of great literary curiofity ;
and when he wrote his Effay on Criticifm had,
for his age, a very wide acquaintance with
books. When he entered into the living
world, it feems to have happened to him as
to many others, that he was lefs attentive to
dead mafters • he ftudied in the academy of
Paracelfus, and made the univerfe his favou-
rite volume. He gathered his notions frefh

from

POPE. !6i

from reality, not from the copies of authors,
but the originals of Nature. Yet there i,
no reafon to believe that literature ever loft
his efteem ; he always profefTed to love read-
Ing ; and Dobfon, who fpent fome time at
his houfe tranflating his Efflty on MJU, when
I afked him what learning he found him to
poiTefs, aniwered, More than I expefted. His
frequent references to hiilory, his allufions
to various kinds of knowledge, and his
images felecled from art and nature, with his
obfervations on the operations of the mind
and the modes of life, mew an intelligence
perpetually on the wing, excurfive, vigorous,
and diligent, eager to purfue knowledge, and
attentive to retain it.

From this curiofity arofe the defire of tra-
velling, to which he alludes in his verfes to
Jervas, and which, though he never found
an opportunity to gratify it, did not leave
him till his life declined.

Of his intellectual character, the confti-
tuent and fundamental principle was Good
Senfc, a prompt and intuitive perception of
confonance and propriety. Ke law immedi-

VOL. IV. M atcly,

162 POP E.

ately, cf his own conceptions, what was to
be chofen, and what to be rejected ; and, in
the works of others, what was to be Ihunned,
and what was to be copied.

But good fenfe alone is a fedate and qui-
cfcent quality, which manages its pofTeffions
well, but does not increafe them ; it collects
few materials for its own operations, and pre-
ferves fafety, but never gains fupremacy.
Pope had likewife genius ; a mind active, am-
bitious, and adventurous, always invefligat-
ing, always afpiring ; in its widen; fearches
Hill longing to go forward, in its higheil
flights flill wiming to be higher; always ima-
gining fomething greater than it knows, al-
ways endeavouring more than it can do.

To affifl thefe powers, he is faid to have
hud great ftrength and exadtnefs of memory.
That which he had heard or read was not
ealily loft -, and he had before him not only
what his own meditation fuggefted, but what
lie had found in other writers, that might be
accommodated to his prefent purpofe.

Thefe benefits of nature he improved by
•inceiiant and unwearied diligence 5 he had re-

courfe

POPE,

courfe to every fource of intelligence, cind
loft no opportunity of information; he c. n-
iul ted the living as well as the dead ; he read
his compofitions to his friends, and was ne-
ver content with mediocrity when excellence
could be attained. He confidered poetry as
the bufincfs of. his life, and however h~
might feem to lament his occupation, he
followed it with constancy ; to make verfcs
was his firft labour, and to mend them was
his laft.

From his attention to poetry he was never
diverted. If oonverfation offered any thing
that could be improved, he committed it to
paper; if a thought, or perhaps an expreflion
more happy than was common, rofe to his
mind, he was careful to write it ; an inde-
pendent diflich was preferved for an oppor-
tunity of infertion, and fomc little fragments
have been found containing lines, or parts of
lines, to be wrought upon at Ibme other
time.

He was one of thofe few whofe labour is
their pleafure : he was never elevated to ne:
gence, nor wearied to impatience; he nc

M 2 pa

1 64 POPE.

patted a fault unamended by indifference, not
quitted it by defpair. He laboured his works
firft to gain reputation, and afterwards to
keep it.

Of competition there are different methods.
Some employ at once memory and invention,
and, with little intermediate ufe of the pen,
form and polifh large rnaiTes by continued
meditation, and write their productions only
when, in their own opinion, they have com-
pleted them. It is related of Virgil, that his
cuflom was to pour out a great number of
verfes in the morning, and pafs the day in
retrenching exuberances and correcting inac- *
curacies. The method of Pope, ' as may be
collected from his tranflation, was to write
his firil thoughts in his firfl words, and gra-
dually to amplify, decorate, rectify, and re-
fine them.

With fuch faculties, and fuch difpofitions,
he excelled every other writer in poetical pru-
dence ; he wrote in fuch a manner as might
expofe him to few hazards. He'ufed almofc
always the fame fabrick of verfe; and, in-
deed, by thofe few effays which he made of

anv

POPE. 165

any other, he did not enlarge his reputation.
Of this uniformity the certain confequence
was readinefs and dexterity. By perpetual
practice, language had in his mind a fyfte-
matical arrangement 3 having always the fame
ufe for words, he had v/ords fo feledted and
combined as to be ready at his call. This
increafe of facility he confefled himfelf to
have perceived in the progrefs of his tranf-
lation.

But what was yet of more importance, his
efFufions were always voluntary, and his fub-
jects chofen by himfelf. His independence
fecured him from drudging at a tafk, and la-
bouring upon a barren topick; he never ex-
changed praife for money, nor opened a mop
of condolence or congratulation. His po-
ems, therefore, were fcarce ever temporary.
He fuffered coronations and royal marriages
to pafs without a long, and derived no oppor-
tunities fromrecent events, nor any popularity
from the accidental difpoiition of his readers.
He was never reduced to the neceffity of Ib-
liciting the fun to mine upon a birth-day,
of calling the Graces and Virtues to a wed-
ding, or of faying what multitudes have laid

M 3 before

166 POP E.

before him. When he could produce nothing
new, he was at liberty to be filent.

His publications were for the fame reafon
never hafty. He is laid to have fent nothing
to the prefs till it had lain two years under
his infpedion : it is at leail certain, that he
ventured nothing without nice examination.
He fuffered the tumult of imagination to
fubfide, and the novelties of invention to
grow familiar. He knew that the rnind is
always enamoured of its own productions,
and did not trufl his firft fondnefs. He con^-
fulted his friends, and liftened with great
willingnefs to criticifm ; and, what was of
more importance, he confulted himfelf, and
let nothing pafs againfl his own judgement.

He profeffed to have learned his poetry
from Dryden, whom, whenever an oppor-
tunity was prefented, he praifed through his
whole life with unvaried liberality; and per-
haps his character may receive fome illuftra-
•(ion, if he be compared with his mailer.

Integrity of underftanding and nicety of
difcernrnent were not allotted in a lefs pro-
portion

POPE. 167

portion to Dryden than to Pope. The rccti-
tude of Dryden's mind was fufficiently fhewn
by the difmiffion of his poetical prejudices,
and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and
rugged numbers. But Dryden never defired
to apply all the judgement that he had. He
wrote, and proferTed to write, merely for
the people • and when he pleafed others, he
contented himfelf. He fpent no time in
Struggles to roufe latent powers ; he never
attempted to make that better which was al-
ready good, nor often to mend what he muit
have known to be faulty. He wrote, as he
tells us, with very little confideration; when
occalion or neceffity called upon him, he
poured out what the prefent moment hap-
pened to fupply, and, when once it had pafied
the prefs, ejected it from his mind; for when
he had no pecuniary interefr., he had no fur-
ther folicitude.

Pope was not content tofatisfy; he defired
to excel, and therefore always endeavoured to
do his beft : he did not court the candour,
but dared the judgement of his reader, and,
expecting no indulgence from others, he
fliewed none to himfelf. He examined lines

M 4.

168 POP E.

and words with minute and punctilious ob-
fervation, and retouched every part with in-
defatigable diligence, till he had left nothing

to be forgiven.

For this reafon he kept his pieces very
long in his hands, while he coniidered and
reconfidered them. The only poems which
can be fuppofed to have been written with
fuch regard to the times as might haften
their publication, were the two fatires of
thirty-eight^ of which Dodfley told me, that
they were brought to him by the author, that
they might be fairly copied. " Almofr. every
'* line," he faid, " was then written twice
" over 3 I gave him a clean tranfcript, which
" he fent fome time afterwards to me for the
" prefs, with almoft every line written twice
*' over a fecond time."

His declaration, that his care for his works
ceafed at their publication, was not ftrictly
true. His parental attention never abandon-
ed them ; what he found amifs in the firft
edition, he filently corrected in thofe that fol-
lowed. He nppears to have revifed the Iliad,
and freed it from fome of its imperfections ;

3 and

POPE. 169

and the Effay on Crlticlfm received many im-
provements after its firft appearance. It will
feldom be found that he altered without add-
ing clearnefs, elegance, or vigour. Pope had
perhaps the judgement of Dryden ; but
Dryden certainly wanted the diligence of
Pope.

In acquired knowledge, the fuperiority
mull: be allowed to Dryden, whofe education
was more fcholafUck, and who before he be-
came an author had been allowed more time
for fludy, with better means of information.
His mind has a larger range, and he collects
his images and illuftrations from a more
extenfive circumference of fcience. Dryden
knew more of man in his general nature, and
Pope in his local manners. The notions of
Dryden were formed by comprehend ve {pe-
culation, and thofe of Pope by minute atten-
tion. There is more dignity in the know-
ledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that
of Pope.

Poetry was not the fole praife of either -y
for both excelled likewife in profe ; but Pope
did not borrow his profe from his predecef-

for.

170 *P O P E.

for. The ftyle of Dryden is capricious and
varied, that of Pope is cautious and uniform ;
Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind,
Pope conftrains his mind to his own rules
of compofition. Dryden is fometimes vehe-
ment and rapid ; Pope is always fmooth, uni-
form, and gentle. Dryden's page is a na-
tural field, rifing into inequalities, and di-
verfifi'ed by the varied exuberance of abun-
dant vegetation ; Pope's is a velvet lawn,
/haven by the fcythe, and levelled by the
roller.

Of genius, that power which confKtutes a
poet ; that quality without which judgement
is cold and knowledge is inert ; that energy
which collects, combines, amplifies, and ani-
mates ; the fuperiority muft, with fome hefi-
tation, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to
be inferred that of this poetical vigour Pope
had only a little, becauie Dryden had more ;
for every other writer fince Milton muft give
place to Pope ; and even of Dryden it muft
be faid, that if he has brighter paragraphs,
he has not better poems. Dryden's per-
formances were always hafty, either excited
by fome external o'ccafion, or extorted by

domeftick

POPE. 171

domeftick neccility ; he compofed without
conlideration, and published without cor-
redion. What his mind could fupply at
call, or gather in one excurfion, was all that
he fought, and all that he gave. The dila-
tory caution of Pope enabled him to con-
denfe his fentiments, to multiply his images,
and to accumulate all that fludy might pro-
duce, or chance might fupply. If the flights
of Dryden therefore are higher, Pope con-
tinues longer on the wing. If of Dryden's
fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the heat
is more regular and conftant. Dryden often
furpafles expectation, and Pope never falls
below it. Dryden is read with frequent
aftonifliment, and Pope with perpetual de-
light,

Tliis parallel will, I hope, when it is well
confidered, be found juft ; and if the deader
mould fufpe6t me, as I fufpe£t myfelf, of
fome partial fondnefs for tlie memory of
Dryden, let him not too haftily condemn
me ; for meditation a^d enquiry may, per-
haps, fhew him the reafonablenefs of my de-
termination,

THE

172

POPE.

THE Works of Pope are now to be dif-
tinctly examined, not fo much with atten-
tion to flight faults or petty beauties, as
to the general character and effect of each
performance.

It feems natural for a young poet to ini-
tiate himfelf by Paftorals, which, not profef-
fmg to imitate real life, require no experi-
ence, and, exhibiting only the fmiple opera-
tion of unmingled paffions, admit no fubtlc
reafoning or deep enquiry. Pope's Paftorals
are not however compofed but with clofe
thought ; they have reference to the times of
the day, the feafons of the year, and the pe-
riods of human life. The laft, that which
turns the attention upon age and death, was
the author's favourite. To tell of difap-
poi'ritment and mifery, to thicken the dark-
nefs of futurity, and perplex the labyrinth of
uncertainty, has been always a delicious em-
ployment of the p&ets. His preference was
probably juft. I wJ/h, however, that his
fondnefs had not overlooked a line in which
the Zephyrs are made to^ament injiknce.

POPE. 173

To charge thefe Paftorals with want of
invention, is to require what never was in-
tended. The imitations are fo ambitioufly
frequent, that the writer evidently means
rather to mew his literature than his wit. It
is furely fufficient for an author of fixteen
not only to be able to copy the poems of an-
tiquity with judicious felection, but to have
obtained fufficient power of language, and
fkill in metre, to exhibit a feries of verfifica-
tion, which had in Englifh poetry no prece-
dent, nor has lince had an imitation.

The defign of Windfor For eft is evidently
derived from Cooper s Hill, with fome atten-
tion to Waller's poem on The Park -, but
Pooe cannot be denied to excel his manners in
variety and elegance, and the art of inter-
changing defcription, narrative, and morali-
ty. The objection made by Dennis is the
want of plan, of a regular fubordination of
parts terminating in the principal and ori-
ginal defign. There is this want in moft de-
fcriptive poems, becaufe as the fcenes,
which they muft exhibit fucceiTively, are
all fubfifling at the fame time, the order

174 POP E.

in which they are fhewn mufl by neceffity be
arbitrary, and more is not to be expecled
from the laft part than from the fir ft. The
attention, therefore, which cannot be de-
tained by fufpenfe, muft be excited by diver-
iity, fuch as his poem offers to its reader.

But the deiire of diverfity may be too much
indulged ; the parts of Windfor Foreji which
deferve leaft praife, are thofe which were added
to enliven the fullneis of the fcene, the ap-
pearance of Father Thames, and the tranf-
formation of Lodona. Addifon had in his
Campaign derided the Rivers that rife from
their oozy beds to tell (lories of heroes, and
it is therefore flrange that Pope mould adopt
a fiction not only unnatural but lately cen-
. fared. The fcory of Lodona is told with
fweetnefs -, but a new metamorphoriis is a
ready and puerile expedient -, nothing is
eafier than to tell how a flower was once
a blooming virgin, or a rock an obdurate
tyrant. .

The 'Temple of Fame has, as Steele warmly
declared, a thoufand beauties. Every part is
fplendid ; there is great luxuriance of orna-
ments j

POPE.

ments ; the original vifion of Chaucer was
never denied to be much improved ; the alle-
gory is very fkilfully continued, the imagery-
is properly felected, and learnedly difplayed :
yet, with all this comprehenfion of excel-
lence, as its fcene is laid in remote ages,
and its fentiments, if the concluding para-
graph be excepted, have little relation to
general manners or common life, it never
obtained much notice, but is turned filently
over, and feldom quoted or mentioned with
either praife or blame.

That the Meffiab excels the Pottlo is no
great praife, if it be confidered from what
original the improvements are derived.

The Verfes on the unfortunate Lady have
drawn much attention by the illaudable fin-
gularity of. treating fuicide with refpect ;
and they muft be allowed to be written in
fome parts with vigorous animation, and in
others with gentle tendernefs ; nor has Pope
produced any poem in which the fenfe
predominates more over the diction. But
the tale is not fkilfully told; it is not
eafy to difcover the character of either

the;

176 POP E.

the Lady or her Guardian. Hiftory re-
lates that me was about to difparage her-
felf by a marriage with an inferior ; Pope
praifes her for the dignity of ambition, and
yet condemns the unkle to deteflation for
his pride; the ambitious love of a niece
may be oppofed by the intereft, malice, or
envy of an unkle, but never by his pride.
On fuch an occafion a poet may be allowed
to be obfcure, but inconfiftency never can
be right.

The Ode for St. Cecilia's Day was under-
taken at the defire of Steele : in this the au-
thor is generally confeiTed to have mifcarried,
yet he has mifcarried only as compared with
Dryden j for he has far outgone other com-
petitors. Dryden's plan is better chofen -,
hiftory will always take ftronger hold of the
attention than fable : the paffions excited by
Dryden are the pleafures and pains of real life,
the fcene of Pope is laid in imaginary exift-
ence ; Pope is read with calm acquiefcence,
Dryden with turbulent delight •> Pope hangs
upon the ear, and Dryden finds the pafTes of
the mind.

Both

POPE. 177

Both the odes want the effential conftitu-
ent of metrical compofitions, the ilated re-
currence of fettled numbers. It may be
alleged, that Pindar is faid by Horace to have
written numeru lege folutis : but as no fuch
lax performances have been tranfmitted to
us, the meaning of that exprefiion cannot be
fixed ; and perhaps the like return might pro-
perly be made to a modern Pindarift, as Mr.
Cobb received from Bentley, who, when he
found his criticifms upon a Greek Exercife,
which Cobb had prefented, refuted one after
another by Pindar's authority, cried out at
laft, Pindar was a bold fellow, but thoii art an
impudent one.

If Pope's ode be particularly infpecled, it
will be found that the firft ilanza confifts of
founds well chofen indeed, but only founds.

The fecond confifls of hyperbolical com-
mon-places, eafily to be found, and per-
haps without much difficulty to be as well
expreiTed.

In the third, however, there are numbers,

Images, harmony, and vigour, not un-

VOL. IV. N worthy

178 POPE.

worthy the antagonift of Dryden. Had all
been like this — but every part cannot be
the beft.

The next ftanzas place and detain us in
the dark and difmal regions of mythology,
where neither hope nor fear, neither joy nor
forrow can be found : the poet however
faithfully attends us; we have all that can be
performed by elegance of diction, or fweet->
nefs of verification; but what can form avail
without better matter ?

The laft flanza recurs again to common-
places. The conclufion is too evidently mo-
delled by that of Dryden ; and it may be re-
marked that both end with the fame fault,
the comparifon of each is literal on one fide,
and metaphorical on the other.

Poets do not always exprefs their own
thoughts ; Pope, with all this labour in the
praife of Mufick, was ignorant of its prin-
ciples, and infenfible of its effects.

One of his greateft though of his earlieft

works is the JLffay on Criticrfm, which, if he

3 had

POPE. 179

had written nothing elfe, would have placed
him among the firft criticks and the firfl
poets, as it exhibits every mode of excellence
that can embellifh or dignify didadtick com-
petition, felec~Hon of matter, novelty of ar-
rangement, juftnefs of precept, fplendour of
illuftration, and propriety of digreffion. I
know not whether it be pleafmg to confidcr
that he produced this piece at twenty, and
never afterwards excelled it : he that delights
himfelf with obferving that fuch powers may
be fo foon attained, cannot but grieve to
think that life was ever after at a fland.

To mention the particular beauties of the
ErTay would be unprofitably tedious ; but I
cannot forbear to obferve, that the compari-
fon of a ftudent's progrefs in the fciences with
the journey of a traveller in the Alps, is
perhaps the belt that Englifh poetry can mew.
A fimile, to be perfect, muft both illuflrate
and ennoble the fubjed: • muft mew it to the
understanding in a clearer view, and difplay
it to the fancy with greater dignity; but either
of thefe qualities may be fufficient to recom-
mend it. In didactick poetry, of which the
great purpofe is inftruction, a fimile may be

N 2 praifed

i8o POP E.

praifed which illustrates, though it does not
ennoble ; in heroicks, that may be admitted
which ennobles, though it does not illuftrate.
That it may be complete, it is required to
exhibit, independently of its references, a
plealing image 3 for a limile is faid to be a
fhort epifode. To this antiquity was fo at-
tentive, that circumftances were fometimes
added, which, having no parallels, ferved
only to fill the imagination, and produced
what Perrault ludicrouily called comparifons
with a long tail. In their fimilies the greateft
writers have fometimes failed ; the mip-race,
compared with the chariot-race, is neither il-
luftrated nor aggrandifed ; land and , water
make all the difference : when Apollo, run-
ning after Daphne, is likened to a greyhound
dialing a hare, there is nothing gained ; the
ideas of purfuit and flight are too plain to
be made plainer, and a god and the daughter
of a god are not reprefented much to their
advantage, by a hare and dog. The fimile
of the Alps has no ufelefs parts, yet affords
a ftriking picture by itfelf ; it makes the fore-
going poiiticn better understood, and enables
it to take fatter hold on the attention >, it affifh
the appreheniion, and elevates the fancy.

Let

POPE. 181

Let me likewife dwell a little on the cele-
brated paragraph, in which it is directed that
the found Jhpuldfeem an echo tothefenfe; a pre-
cept which Pope is allowed to have obferved
beyond any other Engliih poet.

This notion of reprefentative metre, and
the defire of difcovering frequent adaptations
of the found to the fenfe, have produced, in
my opinion, many wild conceits and imagi-
nary beauties. All that can furniih this re-
prefentation are the founds of the words con-
iidered fmgly, and the time in which they
are pronounced. Every language has fome
words framed to exhibit the noifes which they
exprefs, as thump, rattle, growl, hi ft. Thefe
however are but few, and the poet cannot
make them more, nor can they be of any ufe
but when found is to be mentioned, The
time of pronunciation was in the daclylick
rneafures of the learned languages capable of
confiderable variety; but that variety could
be accommodated only to motion or duration,
and different degrees of motion were perhaps
expreffed by vcrfes rapid or flow, without
much attention of the writer, when the ii

N 3 1

182 POP E.

had full pojfTMTion of his fancy ; but our lan-
guage ha vi. g "de flexibility, our verfes can
differ very little in their cadence. The fan-
cied refernblances, I fear, arife fometimes
merely from the ambiguity of words ; there
is fuppofed to be fome relation between &foft
line and ajbff couch, or between hard fylla-
bles and hard fortune.

Motion, however, may be in fome fort ex-
emplified ; and yet it may be fufpected that
even in fuch refemblances the mind often go-
verns the ear, and the founds are estimate
by their meaning. One of the moil fuccefs-
ful attempts has been to defcribe the labour
of Sifyphus :

With many a weary ftep, and many a groan,
Up a high hill he heaves a huge round ftone ;
The huge round ftone, refuking with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and fmoaks along
the ground.

Who does not perceive the ftone to move
flowly upward, and roll violently back ? But
fet the fame numbers to another fenfe -,

While

POPE. 183

While many a merry tale, and many a fong.
Chear'd the rough road, we wilh'd the rough

road along.

The rough road then, returning in around,
Mock'd our impatient fteps, for all was fairy
ground.

We have now furely loft much of the delay,
and much of the rapidity.

But to (hew how little the greateft matter
of numbers can fix the principles of repre-
fentative harmony, it will be fufficient to re-
mark that the poet, who tells us, that

When Ajax flrives — the words move flow.
Not fo when fwift Camilla fcours the plain,
Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and Ikims along
the main ;

when he had enjoyed for about thirty years
the praife of Camilla's lightnefs of foot, tried
another experiment upon found and time, and
produced this memorable triplet;

Waller was fmooth; but Dryden taught to join
The varying verfe, the full refounding line,
The long majeftick march, and energy divine.

N 4 Here

1 84 POPE.

Here are the fwiftnefs of the rapid race, and
the march of flow-paced majefty, exhibited
by the fame poet in the fame fequence of fyl-
lables, except that the exact profodifl will
find the line of fwiftnefs by one time longer
than that of tardinefs.

Beauties of this kind are commonly fan-
cied; and when real, are technical and nugato-
ry, not to be rejected, and not to be folicited.

To the praifes which have been accumu-
lated on 'The Rape of the Lock by readers of
every clafs, from the critick to the waiting-
maid, it is difficult to make any addition.
Of that which is univerfally allowed to be the
moft attractive of all ludicrous compofitions,
let it rather be now enquired from what
fources the power of plealing is derived.

Dr. Warburton, who excelled in critical
perfpicacity, has remarked that the preterna-
tural agents are very happily adapted to the
purpofes of the poem. The heathen deities
can no longer gain attention : we mould have
turned away from a conteil between Venus
and Diana. The employment of allegorical

perfons

POPE. 185

perfons always excites conviction of its own
abfurdity ; they may produce effects, but can-
not conduct actions ; when the phantom is
put in motion, it diflblves ; thus Dzftordmay
raife a mutiny, but Difcord cannot conduct
a march, nor befiege a town. Pope brought
into view a new race of Beings, with powers
and paffions proportionate to their operation.
The fylphs and gnomes act at the toilet and
the tea-table, what more terrifick and more
poweiful phantoms perform on the ftormy
ocean, or the field of battle, they give their
proper help, and do their proper mifchief.

Pope is laid, by an objector, not to have
been the inventer of this petty nation 3 a
charge which might with more juftice have
been brought againft the author of the Iliad >
who doubtlefs adopted the religious fyftem of
his country; for what is there but the names
of his agents which Pope has not invented ?
Has he not affigned them characters and ope-
rations never heard of before ? Has he not,
at lealt, given them their firit poetical exig-
ence ? If this is not fufficient to denominate
his work original, nothing original ever can
be written,

186 POP E.

In this work are exhibited, in a very high
degree, the two moft engaging powers of an
author. New things are made familiar, and
familiar things are made new. A race of aerial
people, never heard of before, is prefented to
us in a manner fo clear andeafy, that the reader
feeks for no further information, but immedi-
ately mingles with his new acquaintance,
adopts their interefts, and attends their pur-
fuits, loves a fylph, and detefls a gnome.

That familiar things are made new, every
paragraph will prove. The fubject of the
poem is an event below the common incidents
of common life ; nothing real is introduced
that is not feen fo often as to be no longer
regarded, yet the whole detail of a female-day
is here brought before us inverted with fo
much art of decoration, that, though nothing
is difguiied, every thing is flriking, and we
feel all the appetite of curiofity for that from
v. hich we have a thoufand times turned fafti-
dioufly away.

The purpofe of the Poet is, as he tells us,
to laugh at the little unguarded follies of the

female

POPE. 187

female fcx. It is therefore without juftice that
Dennis charges the Rape of the Lock with the
want of a moral, and for that reafon fets it
below the Lutria, which expofes the pride
and difcorci of the clergy. Perhaps neither
Pope nor Boileau has made the world much
better than he found it; but if they had
both fucceeded, it were eafy to tell who
would have deferved moil from publick gra-
titude. The freaks, and humours, and
fpleen, and vanity of women, as they em-
broil families in difcord, and fill houfes with
difquiet, do more to obftruct the happinefs
of life in a year than the ambition of the
clergy in many centuries. It has been well
obferved, that the mifery of man proceeds
not from any fingle crufh of overwhelming
evil, but from fmall vexations continually
repeated.

It is remarked by Dennis likewife, that the
machinery is fuperfluous ; that, by all the
buftle of preternatural operation, the main
event is neither haftened nor retarded. To
this charge an efficacious anfwer is not eaiily
made. The fylphs cannot be faid to help or
to oppofe, and it mufl be allowed to imply

forne

POPE.

fome want of art, that their power has not
been (efficiently intermingled with the action.
Other parts may likewife be charged with
want of connection ; the game at ombre might
be fpared, but if the Lady had lofl her hair
while me was intent upon her cards, it might
have been inferred that thofe who are too
fond of play will be in danger of neglecting
more important interefls. Thofe perhaps are
faults j but what are fuch faults to fo much
excellence !

The Epiflle of Eloife to Abelard is one of
the moffc happy productions of human wit :
the fubject is fo judicioufly chofen, that it
would be difficult, in turning over the annals
of the world, to find another which fo many
circumftances concur to recommend. We
regularly intereft ourfelves moil in the fortune
of thofe who mofl deferve our notice. Abe-
Sard and Eloife were confpicuous in their days
for eminence of merit. The heart naturally
loves truth. The adventures and misfortunes
of this illuftrious pair are known from un-
difputed hiftory. Their fate does not leave
the rnind in hopelefs dejection j for they both
found quiet and confolation in retirement and

piety.

POPE. 189

piety. So new and fo affecting is their ftory,
that it fuperfedes invention, and imagination
ranges at full liberty without ftraggling into
fcenes cf fable.

The ftory, thus fkilfully adopted, has been
diligently improved. Pope has left nothing
behind him, which fecms more the effect of
iludious perfeverance and laborious revifal.
Here is particularly obfervable the cv.riofa
f elicit as, a fruitful foil, and careful cultiva-
tion. Here is no crudenefs of fenfe, nor
afperity of language.

The fources from which fentiments, which
have fo much vigour and efficacy, have been
drawn, are {hewn to be the myrtick writers
by the learned author of the Effay on the Life
and Writings of Pope ; a book which teaches
how the brow of Criticifm may be fmooth-
ed, and how me may be enabled, with all her
feverity, to attract and to delight.

The train cf my difquifition has now con-
dueled me to that poetical wonder, the tranf-
lation of the Iliad ; a performance which no
age or nr.tion can pretend to equal. To the

Greeks

190 POP E.

Greeks tranflation was almolt unknown ; If
was totally unknown to the inhabitants of
Greece. They had no recourfe to the Bar-
barians for poetical beauties, but fought for
every thing in Homer, where, indeed, there
is but little which they might not find.

The Italians have been very diligent tranf-
lators j but I can hear of no verfion, unlefs per-
haps Anguillara'sOvidmay be excepted,which
is read with eagernefs. The Iliad of Salvini
every reader may difcover to be punctilioufly
exact; but it feems to be the work of a
linguift fkilfully pedantick, and his country-
men, the proper judges of its power to pleafe,
reject it with difguft.

Their predecefTors the Romans have left
fome fpecimens of tranflation behind them,
and that employment muft have had fome
credit in which Tully and Germanicus en-
gaged ; but unlefs we fuppofe, what is per-
haps true, that the plays of Terence were
veriions of Menander, nothing tranflated
feems ever to have rifen to high reputation.
The French, in the meridian hour of their
learning, were very laudably induftrious to

enrich

POPE. 191

enrich their own language with the wifdorn
of the ancients ; but found themfelves re-
duced, by whatever necefiity, to turn the
Greek and Roman poetry into profe. Who-
ever could read an author, could tranflate
him. From fuch rivals little can be feared.

The chief help of Pope in this arduous
undertaking was drawn from the verfions of
Dryden. Virgil had borrowed much of his
imagery from Homer, and part of the debt
was now paid by his tranflator. Pope fearch-
ed the pages of Dryden for happy combina-
tions of heroic diction ; but it will not be
denied that he added much to what he found.
He cultivated our language with fo much
diligence and art, that he has left in his

Homer a treafure of poetical elegances to
pofterity. His veriion may be {aid to have
tuned the Englim tongue; for fince its ap-
pearance no writer, however deficient in
other powers, has wanted melody. Such a
feries of lines fo elaborately corrected, and fo
fweetly modulated, took poiTcffion of the
publick ear; the vulgar was enamoured of
the poem, and the learned wondered at the
tranflation.

But

192 POP E,

But in the moft general applaufe difcor-
dant voices will always be heard. It has
been objected by fome, who wim to be num-
bered among the fons of learning, that Pope's
veriion of Homer is not Homerical ; that it
exhibits no refemblance of the original and
characteriftick manner of the Father of
Peotry, as it wants his awful fimplicity, his
ar tlefs grandeur, his unaffected majefty. This
cannot be totally denied ; but it mull be re-
membered that neceffitas quod coglt defendit ;
that may be lawfully done which cannot be
forborn. Time and place will always .enforce
regard. In eftimating this tranilation, con-
lideration muft be had of the nature of our
language, the form of our metre, and, above
all, of the change which two thoufand years
have made in the modes of life and the habits
of thought. Virgil wrote in a lan^uao-e of

O O O O

the fame general fabrick with that of Homer,
in verfes of the fame meafure, and in an
age nearer to Homer's time by eighteen hun-
dred years 3 yet he found, even then, the
ftate of the world fo much altered, and the
demand for elegance fo much increased, that
mere nature would be endured no longer;
and perhaps, in the multitude of borrowed

jpaflages,

POPE.

193

paflages, very few can be fhewn which he
has not embellifhed.

There is a time when nations emerging
from barbarity, and falling into regular fub-
ordination, gain leifure to grow wife, and
feel the mame of ignorance and the craving
pain of unfatisfied curiofity. To this hunger
of the mind plain fenfe is grateful j that which
fills the void removes uneafinefs, and to be
free from pain for a while is pleafure ; but
repletion generates faftidioufnefs ; a faturat-
ed intellect foon becomes luxurious, and
knowledge finds no willing reception till it is
recommended by artificial diction. Thus it
will be found, in the progrefs of learning,
that in all nations the firft writers are fnnple,
and that every age improves in elegance.
One refinement always makes way for ano-
ther, and what was expedient to Virgil was
neceflary to Pope.

I fuppofe many readers of the Englifh
Iliad, when they have been touched with
fome unexpected beauty of the lighter kind,
have tried to enjoy it in the original, where,
alas ! it was not to be found. Homer doubt-

VOL, IV, O lefs

194 POPE.

lefs owes to his tranflator many Ovidian
graces not exadly fuitable to his character ;
but to have added can be no great crime, if
nothing be taken away. Elegance is furely
to be deiired, if it be not gained at the eX-
pence of dignity. A hero would wifh to be
loved, as well as to be reverenced.

To a thoufand cavils one anfwer is fuffici-
ent ; the purpofe of a writer is to be read,
and the criticifm which would deflroy the
power of pleafing muft be blown afide. Pope
wrote for his own age and his own nation :
he knew that it was neceffary to colour the
images and point the fentiments of his au-

SH i

"thorj he therefore made him graceful, but

loll him Tome ©f his fublimity.

The copious notes with which the verflon
is accompanied, and by which it is recom-
mended to many readers, though they were
undoubtedly written to fwell the volumes,
ought not to pafs without praife : commen-
taries which attract the reader by the pleafure
of perufal have not often appeared -y the notes
of others are read to clear difficulties, thofe
of Pope to vary entertainment.

POPE. 19;

It has however been objected, with fufHci-
ent reafbn, that there is in the commentary
too much of unfeafonable levity and affected
gaiety ; that too many appeals are made to
the Ladies, and the eafe which is fo carefully
preferred is fometimes the eafe of a trifler.
Every art has its terms, and every kind of
inftruftion its proper fryle ; the gravity of
common criticks may be tedious, but is lefs
defpicable than childifh merriment.

Of the Odyffey nothing remains to be ob~
ferved : the fame general praife may be given
to both tranilations, and a particular exami-
nation of either would require. a large volume.
The notes were written by Broome, who en-
deavoured not unfuccefsfully to imitate his
mailer.

Of the Dunciad the hint is confeffedly
taken from Dryden's Mac Flecknos ; but the
plan is fo enlarged and diveriined as juftly to
claim the praife of an original, and affords
perhaps the heft fpecimen that has yet
appeared of perfonal fatire ludicroufly
pompous.

O 2 That

196 POP E.

That the defign was moral, whatever the
author might tell either his readers or him-
felf, I am not convinced. The firft motive
was the defire of revenging the contempt with
which Theobald had treated his Shakfpeare*
and regaining the honour which he had loft,
by cruming his opponent. Theobald was
not of bulk enough to fill a poem, and there-
fore it was necefTary to find other enemies
with other names, at whofe expence he might
divert the publick.

In this defign there was petulance and
malignity enough ; but I cannot think it very
criminal. An author places himfelf uncalled
before the tribunal of Criticifm, and folicits
fame at the hazard of difgrace. Dulnefs or
deformity are not culpable in themfelves, but
may be very juftly reproached when they pre-
tend to the honour of wit or the influence of
beauty. If bad writers were to pafs without
reprehenfion, what mould reftrain them ?
impune diem confumpferlt ingens T^elephus ; and
upon bad writers only will cenfure have much
effect. The fatire which brought Theobald
and Moore into contempt, dropped impotent
from Bentley, like the javelin of Priam.

All

P O P E. 197

All truth is valuable, and fatirical criti*
cifm may be coniidered as ufeful when it
rectifies error and improves judgement; he
that refines the publick tafte is a publick be-
nefactor.

The beauties of this poem are well known ;
its chief fault is the grofTnefs of its images.
Pope and Swift had an unnatural delight in
ideas phyfically impure, fuch as every other
tongue utters with unwillingnefs, and of
which every ear fhrinks from the mention.

But even this fault, offeniive as it is, may
be forgiven for the excellence of other paf-
faees : fuch- as the formation and diffolution

O '

of Moore, the account of the Traveller, the
misfortune of the Florift, and the crouded
thoughts and ftately numbers with dignify
the concluding paragraph.

The alterations which have been made in
the Dunciady not always for the better, re-
quire that it mould be publifhed, as in the
lafl collection, with all its variations,

O <* The

i98 POP Er

The Effay on Man was a work of great la-
bour and long confederation, but certainly not
the happieft of Pope's performances: The
fubjedr. is perhaps not very proper for poetry,
and the poet was not fufficiently matter of his
fubjecl: ; metaphyfical morality was to him a
new ftudy? he was proud of his acquifitions,
and, fuppofmg himfelf mailer of great fecrets,
was in hade to teach what he had not learn-
ed. Thus he tells us, in the firft Epiftle,
that from the nature of the Supreme Being
may be deduced an order of beings fuch as
mankind, becaufe Infinite Excellence can do
only what is beft, Pie finds out that thefe
beings mufl bcjbmew&ere, and that all the
quejlion Is whether man be In a wrong place.
Surely if, according to the poet's Leibnitian
reafoning, we may infer that man ought to
be, only becaufe he is, we may allow that
his place is the right pbce, becaufe he has it.
Supreme Wifdom is not lefs infallible in dif-
poling than in creating. But what is meant
by fomewhere and place, and wrong place, it
had been vain to afk Pope, who probably had
never afked himfelf.

Having exalted himfelf into the chair of
wifdom, he tells us much that every man

P O P ^E, 199

knows, and much that he- does not know
himfelf ; that we fee but little, and that the.
order of the univerfe is beyond our compre-.
henfion ; an opinion not very uncommon j
and that there is a chain of fubordinate beings
from infinite to nothing, of which himfelf.
and his readers are equally igriorant. But
he gives us one comfort, which, without his
help, he fuppofes unattainable, in the pofition
that though we are fools, yet God is wife.

This Eilay affords an egregious inftance of
the predominance of genius, the dazzling
fplendour of imagery, and the feductive
powers of eloquence. Never were penury of
knowledge, and vulgarity of fentiment fo hap-
pily difguifed. The reader feels his mind
full, though he learns nothing; and when he
meets . it in its new array, no longer knows
the talk of his .mother and his nurfe. When,
thefe wonder-working founds fink into fenfe,
and the doftrine of the Eflay, difrobed of its
ornaments, is left to the powers of its naked
excellence, what mall we difcover ? That we
are, in companion with our Creator, very,
weak and ignorant -, that we do not uphold
the chain of exiftence, and that we could not

O 4 make

POP E.

make one another with more ikill than xvc
are made. We may learn yet more ; that
the arts of human life were copied from the
inftinctive operations of other animals ; that
if the world be made for man, it may be faid
that man was made for geefe. To thefe pro-
found principles of natural knowledge are
added fome moral instructions equally new -,
that felf-intereft, well underflood, will pro-
duce focial concord ; that men are mutual
gainers by mutual benefits ; that evil is fome-
times balanced by good ; that human advan-
tages are unftable and fallacious, of uncertain
duration, and doubtful effect; that our true
honour is, not to have a great part, but to
act it well : that virtue only is our own j and
that happinefs is always in our power.

Surely a man of no very comprehenfive
fearch may venture to fay that he has heard
all this before ; but it was never till now re-
commended byfuch ablaze of embellifhment,
or fuch fweetnefs of melody. The vigorous
contraction of fome thoughts, the luxuriant
amplification of others, the incidental illuf-
trations, and fometimes the dignity, fome-
times the foftnefs of the verfes, enchain phi-

loibphy,

POPE. 201

loibphy, fufpendcriticifm, and opprefs judge-
ment by overpowering pleafure.

This is true of many paragraphs ; yet if
I had undertaken to exemplify Pope's felicity
of compofition before a rigid critick, I mould
not feled: the Effay on Man ; for it contains
more lines unfuccefsfully laboured, more
harfhnefs of diction, more thoughts imper-
fectly exprefTed, more levity without elegance,
and more heavinefs without ftrength, than
will eafily be found in all his other Works.

The Characters of Men and Women are the
product of diligent fpeculation upon human
life ; much labour has been beftowed upon
them, and Pope very feldom laboured in vain.
That his excellence may be properly efti-
mated, I recommend a comparifon of his
Characters of Women with Boileau's Satire; it
will then be feen with how much more per-
fpicacity female nature is inveftigated, and
female excellence felected ; and he furely is no
mean writer to whom Boileau mail be found
inferior. The Characters of Men, however,
are written with more, if not with deeper,
thought, and exhibit manypaiTagesexquifitely

beautiful.

202

POPE.

beau tiful . The Gem and the 'Flower will not
ealily be equalled. In the women's part are
fome defeats ; the character of Attoffa is not
fo neatly finifhed as that of Clodio ; and fome
of the female characters may be found per-
haps more frequently among men -3 what is
faid of Philomede was true of Prior.

In the Epiftles to Lord Bathurft and Lord
Burlington, Dr. Warburton has endeavoured
to find a train of thought which was never in
the writer's head, and, to fupport his hypo-
thefis, has printed that fir ft which was pub-
lifhed lafr,. In one, the moil valuable pailage
is perhaps the Elogy on Good Senfe, and the
other the End of the Duke of Buckingham*

The Epiftle to Arbuthnot, now arbitrarily
called the Prologue to the Satires, is a per-
formance conflicting, as it feems, of many
fragments wrought into one defign, which by
this union of fcattered beauties contains more
ftriking paragraphs than could probably have
been brought together into an occalional
work. As there is no flronger motive to ex-
ertion than felf-defence, no part has more
elegance, fpirit, or dignity, than the poet's

vindication

POPE. 20 >

vindication of his own chara&er. The
meaneil paflage is the fat ire upon Sporus.

Of the two poems which derived their
names from the year, and which are called the
Epilogue to the Satires, it was very j uflly re-
marked by Savage, that the fecond was in the
whole more ftrongly conceived, and more
equally fuppprted, but that it had no fingle
paffages equal to the contention in the firft
for the dignity of Vice, and the celebration
of the triumph of Corruption.

The Imitations of Horace feem to have
been written as relaxations of his genius.
This employment became his favourite by its
facility; the plan was ready to his hand, and
nothing was required but to accommodate as
he could the fentiments of an old author to
recent fads or familiar images j but what is
eafy is feldom excellent j fuch imitations can-
not give pleafure to common readers ; the
man of learning may be foinetimes furprifed
and delighted by an unexpected parallel ; but
the comparifon requires knowledge of the
original, which will likewife often detecl
Arained applications. Between Roman images

and

204 POP E.

and Englifh manners there will be an
irreconcileable diffimilitude, and the work
will be generally uncouth and party-colour-
ed ; neither original nor tranilated, neither
ancient nor modern.

Pope had, in proportions very nicely ad-
jutted to each other, all the qualities that con-
ftitute genius. He had Invention, by which
new trains of events are formed, and new
fcenes of imagery displayed, as in the Rape of
the Lack; and by which extrinfick and adven-
titious embellimments and illustrations are
connected with a known fubjecl, as in the
Effay on Criticifm. He had Imagination^
which ftrongly imprefTes on the writer's mind,
and enables him to convey to the reader, the
various forms of nature, incidents of life, and
energies of paffion, as in his Eloifa, Wind/or
For eft, and the Ethick Epiftles. He had
Judgement which felects from life or nature
what the prefent purpofe requires, and, by
feparating theeffence of things from its con-
comitants, often makes the reprefentation
more powerful than the reality : and he ha4
colours of language always before him, ready
to decorate his matter with every grace of ele-
gant

POPE. 205

gant expreffion, as when ,he accommodates
his diction to the wonderful multiplicity of
Homer's fentiments and defcriptions.

Poetical expreffion includes found as well
as meaning ; Miijlck, fays Dryden, is inarti-
culate poetry ; among the excellences of Pope,
therefore, muft be mentioned the melody of
his metre. By perufmg the works of Dryden,
he difcovered the mofl perfect fabrick of
Englim verfe, and habituated himfelf to- that
only which he found the beft; in confequence
of which reftraint, his poetry has been cen-
fured as too uniformly muiical, and as glut-
ting the ear with unvaried fweetnefs. I fufpect
this objection to be the cant of thofe who
judge by principles rather than perception :
and who would even themfelves have left,
pleafure in his works, if he had tried to re-
lieve attention by iludied difcords, or affected
to break his lines and vary his paufes.

But though he was thus careful of his
verification, he did not opprefs his powers
with fuperfiuous rigour. He feems to have
thought with Boileau, that the practice of
writing might be refined till the difficulty

mould

2o6 POP E.

fhould overbalance the advantage. The con-
ftruclion of his language is not always ftrictly
grammatical ; with thole rhymes which pre-
fcription had conjoined he contented himlelf,
without regard to Swift's remonftrances,
though there was no finking conlbnance ;
nor was he very careful to vary his termina-
tions, or to refufe admiffion at a fmall diftance
to the fame rhymes.

To Swift's edict for the exclufion of Alex-
andrines and Triplets he paid little regard; he
admitted them, but, in the opinion of Fen-
ton, too rarely •, he ufes them more liberally
in his tranflation than his poems.

He has a few double rhymes ; and always,
I think, unfuccefsfully, except once in the
Rape of the Lock.

Expletives he very early ejected from his
verfes ; but he now and then admits an epithet
rather commodious than important. Each
of the fix firft lines of the Iliad might lofe
two fyllables with very little diminution of
the meaning ; and fometimes, after all his
art and labour, one verfe feems to be made

for

P OPE. 207

for the fake of another. In his latter pro-
ductions the diction is fometimes vitiated by
French idioms, with which Bolingbroke had
perhaps infected him.

I have been told that the couplet by which
he declared his own ear to be moll gratified
was this :

Lo, where Mceotis fleeps, and hardly flows
The freezing- Tanais through a wade of fnows.

tJ ^J

But the reafon of this preference I cannot
difcover.

It is remarked by Watts, that there is

fcarcely a happy combination of words, or a
phrafe poetically elegant in the Englifh lan-
guage, which Pope has not inferted into his
verfion of Homer. How he obtained pof-
fefilon of fo many beauties of fpeech, it were
defirable to know. That he gleaned from
authors, obfcure as well as eminent, what
he thought brilliant or ufeful, and preferved
it all in a regular collection, is not unlikely.
When, in his lail years, Hall's Satires were
{hewn him, he wifh'd that he hadfeen them
fooner*

New

20 8 POPE.

New fentiments and new images others
may produce; but to attempt any further im-
provement of verfification will be dangerous.
Art and diligence have now done their befl,
and what mall be added will be the effort of
tedious toil and needlefs curiolity.

After all this, it is furely fuperfluous to
anfwer the queftion that has once been afk-
ed, Whether Pope was a poet ? otherwife
than by afking in return, If Pope be not a
poet, where is poetry to be found ? To cir-
cumfcribe poetry by a definition will only
mew the narrownefs of the definer, though
a definition which mall exclude Pope will
not eafily be made. Let us look round upon
the prefent time, and back upon the paft;
let us enquire to whom the voice of mankind
has decreed the wreath of poetry; let their
productions be examined, and their claims
ftated, and the pretenlions of Pope will be
no more difputed. Had he given the world
only his verfion, the name of poet muft have
been allowed him : if the writer of the Iliad
were to clafs his fucceflbrs, he would affign a
very high place to his tranilator, without re-
quiring any other evidence of Genius.

THE

POPE,

The following Letter, of which the ori-

ginal is in the hands of Lord Hardwicke, was
communicated to me by the kindnefs of Mr,
Jodrell.

" To Mr. BRIDGES, at the £ifhop of
" London's at Fulharru

s I.R,

*' The favour of your Letter, tvith your
Remarks, can never be enough acknow-
ledged ; and the fpeed, with which you dif-
charged fo troublefome a talk, doubles the
obligation*

" I muft own, you have pleafed me very
much by the commendations fo ill bellowed
Upon me ; but, I allure you, much more by
the franknefs of your cenfure, which I ought
to take the more kindly cf the two, 23 it is
more advantageous td a fcribbler to be irftprov^
ed in his judgment than to be fo'othed in his
Vanity. The greater part of thofe deviations
VOL. IV, P from

2io POPE.

from the Greek, which you haveflfeferved, I
was led into by Chapman and Hobbes ; who
are (it feems) as much celebrated for their
knowledge of the original, as they are decry -
ed for the badnefs of their tranilations. Chap-
man pretends to have reflored the genuine
fenfe of the author, from the miftakes of all
former explainers, in feveral hundred places :
and the Cambridge editors of the large Homer,
in Greek and Latin, attributed fo much to
Hobbes, that they confefs they have correct-
ed the old Latin interpretation very often by
his verfion. For my part, I generally took
the author's meaning to be as you have ex-
plained it; yet their authority, joined to the
knowledge of my own imperfectnefs in the
language, over-ruled me. However, Sir, you
may be confident I think you in the right,
becaufe you happen to be of my opinion :
(for men (let them &J what they will) never
approve any other's fenfe, but as it fquares
with their own.) But you have made me
much more proud of, and pofitive in my
judgement, fmce it is ilrengthened by yours.
I think your criticifms, which regard the ex-
preffion, very juft, and mall make my profit
of them : to give you fome proof that I am

J> O P E. 211

in earneft, I will alter three verfes on your
bare objection, though I have Mr. Dryden's
example for each of them. And this, I hope,
you will account no fmall piece of obedience,
from one, who values the authority of one
true poet above that of twenty cri ticks or
commentators. But though I fceak thus
of commentators, I will continue to read
carefully all I can procure, to make up, that
way, for my own want of critical underftanding
in the original beauties of Homer. Though
the greatefl of them are certainly thofe of
the Invention and Defign, which are not at
all confined to the language : for the diftin-
guifhing excellences of Homer are (by the
confent of the bell criticks of all nations)
firft in the manners, (which include all the
fpeeches, as being no other than the repre-
fentations of each perfon's manners by his
words :) and then in that rapture and fire,
which carries you away with him, with that
wonderful force, that no man who has a
true poetical fpirit is mafter of himfelf, while
he reads him, Homer makes you interefted
and concerned before you are aware, all at
once ; whereas Virgil does it by foft degrees.
This, I believe, is what a tranilator of Ho-

P 2 mer

212

POPE.

mer ought principally to imitate j and it is
very hard for any translator to come up to
it, becaufe the chief reafon why all transla-
tions fall Short of their originals is, that the
very constraint they are obliged to, renders
them heavy and dispirited.

" The great beauty of Homer's language,
as I take it, conSiSts in that noble Simplicity,
which runs through all his works ; (and yet
his diction, contrary to what one would
imagine conSiSlent with Simplicity, is at the
fame time very copious.) I don't know how
I have run into this pedantry in a Letter, but
I find I have faid too much, as well as fpoken
too inconsiderately ; what farther thoughts
I have upon this fubjecl, I Shall be glad to
communicate to you (for my own improve-
ment) when we meet ; which is a happinefs
I very earneSlly deSire, as I do likewife fome
opportunity of proving how much I think
rriyfelf obliged to your friendship, and how
truly I am, Sir,

Your moil faithful, humble fervant,

A. POPE.'

The

POPE. 213

The Criticifm upon Pope's Epitaphs,
which was printed in The Fiji for, is placed
here, being too minute and particular to be
inierted in the Life.

EVERY Art is beft taught by example.
Nothing contributes more to the cultivation
of propriety than remarks on the works of
thofe who have moil: excelled. I mall there-
fore endeavour, at this ijijit, to entertain the
young ftudents in poetry, with an examina-
tion of Pope's Epitaphs.

To define an epitaph is ufelefs ; every one
knows that it is an infcription on a tomb.
An epitaph, therefore, implies no particular
character of writing, but may be compofed
in verfe or profe. It is indeed commonly
panegyrical j becaufe we are feldom diftin-
guifhed with a ftone but by our friends ; but
it has no rule to reflrain or mollify it, except
this, that it ought not to be longer than corn-
men beholders may be expected to have lei-
fure and patience to perufe.

P3 I, On

2i4 POPE.

On CHARLES Earl of DORSET, in tbt

Church of Wy thy ham in Sujfex.

Dorfet, the grace of courts, the Mufe's pride.
Patron of arts, and judge of nature, dy'd.
The fcourge of pride, though fanctify'd or great,
Of fops in learning, and of knaves in ftate ;
Yet foft in nature, though fevere his lay,
His anger moral, and his wifdom gay.
Bled fatyrift ! who touch'd the mean fo true,
AS fhow'd, Vice had his hate and pity too,
Blefl courtier! who could king and country pjeafe,
'Yet facred kept his friendship, and his eafe.
Bleft peer ! his great forefather's every grace
Reflecting, and reflected on his race j
Where other Buckhurfts, other Dorfets fhine,
And patriots ftill, or poets, deck the line.

The firft diftich of this epitaph contains
a kind of information which few would want,
that the man, for whom the tomb was erect -..
ed, died. There r.re indeed fome qualities
worthy of praife afcribed to the dead, but
none that were likely to exempt him from
the lot of man, or incline us much to won-
der that he fhould die. What is meant by
2 judge

POPE, 215

judge of nature, is not eafy to fay. Nature
is not the object of human judgement ; for it
is vain to judge where we cannot alter. If
by nature is meant, what is commonly called
nature by the criticks, a juft reprefentation
of things really exifting, and actions really
performed, nature cannot be properly oppof-
ed to art *, nature being, in this fenfe, only
the beft elfed of art.

Tfhe fcourge of pride —

Of this couplet, the fecond line is not,
what is "intended, an illuftration of the
former. Pride, in the Great, is indeed well
enough connected with knaves in ftate,
though knaves is a word rather too ludicrous
and light ; but the mention of fanttijied pride
will not lead the thoughts to fops in learning,
but rather to fome fpecies of tyranny or op-
preffion, fomething more gloomy and more
formidable than foppery.

Yet f oft his nature —

This is a high compliment, but was not
firft bellowed on Dorfet by Pope. The next
verfe is extremely beautiful. %.

P 4 Blcft

3i$ POP E.

Bleft fatyrift /—

In this diftich is another line of which
Pope was not the author. I do not mean to
blame thefe imitations with much harmnefs ;
in long performances they are fcarcely to be
avoided, and in morter they may be indulged,
becaufe the train of the compofition may na-
turally involve them, or the fcantinefs of
the fubjecl: allow little choice. However,
what is borrowed is net to be enjoyed as our
own, and it is the bufinefs of critical juftice
to give every .bird of the Mufes his proper
feather.

Bleft conrt'ier ! —

Whether a courtier can properly be com^
mended for keeping his eafe J acred, may per-
haps be difputable. To pleafe king and
country, without facrifking friendfhip to
( any- change of times, was a very uncommon
inftance of prudence or felicity, and deferved
to be kept feparate from fo poor a commen-
dation as care of his eafe. I wim our poets
would attend a little more accurately to the
ufe of the wbrdfacredj which furely mould
never be applied in a ferious compofition,

but

POPE. 217

but where fome reference may be made to a
higher Being, or where fome duty is exacted
or implied. A man may keep his friendihip
facred, becaufe promifes of ffiendfliijp are
very awful ties 3 but methinks he cannot,
but in a burlefque fenfe, be faid to keep his
cafe/acred.

B left peer.!

The bleffing afcribed to the peer has no
connection with his peerage : they might
happen to any other man, whofe anceftors
were remembered, or whofe pofterity were
likely to be regarded,

I know not whether this epitaph be
worthy either of the writer or of the man
entombed.

II.

On Sir WILLIAM TRUMBAL, one of the
principal Secretaries of State to King WIL-
LIAM III, who, having refigned his place y
died in bis retirement at Baftbamfied in
Berk/hire, 1716.

A pleafmg form, a firm, yet cautious mind,
Sincere., though prudent j conflantj yetrefign'd;

Honour

218 P OPE.

Honour unchang'd, a principle profeft,
Fix'd to one fide, but moderate to the reft :
An honeft courtier, yet a patriot too,
Juft to his prince, and to his country too.
Fill'd with the fenfe of age, the fire of youth,
A fcorn of wrangling, yet a zeal for truth j
A generous faith, from fuperfcition free;
A love to peace, and hate of tyranny ;
Such this man was; who now, from earth remov'd,
At length enjoys that liberty he lov'd.

In this epitaph, as in many others, there
appears, at the firfr. view, a fault which I
think fcarcely any beauty can compenfate.
The name is omitted. The end of an
epitaph is to convey fome account of the dead ;
and to what purpofe is any thing told of
him whofe name is concealed ? An epitaph,
and a hiftory, of a namelefs hero, are equal-
ly abfurd, fince the virtues and qualities fo
recounted in either, are fcattered at the
mercy of fortune to be appropriated by guefs.
The name, it is true, may be read upon the
flone , but what obligation has it to the
poet, whofe verfes wander over the earth,
and leave their fubjecl behind them, and
who is forced, like an unfkilful painter,

t©

POPE. 219

to make his purpofe known by adventitious
help?

This epitaph is wholly without elevation,
and contains nothing ftriking or particular ;
but the poet is not to be blamed for the de-
fects of his fubject. He faid perhaps the
belt that could be faid. There are, however,
fome defects which were not made neceflary
by the character in which he was employed.
There is no oppolition between an honeft
courtier and a patriot -, for an honejl courtier
cannot but be a patriot.

It was unfuitable to the nicety required in
jhort compofitions, to clofe his verfe with the
word too -, every rhyme fliould be a word of
emphaiis, nor can this rule be fafely neglected,
except where die length of the poem makes
ilight inaccuracies excufable, or allows room
for beauties fufficjent to overpower the effects
of petty faults,

At the beginning of the feventh line the
vrord jilted is weak and profaic, having no
particular adaptation to any of the words that

follow it,

The

220 POP E.

The thought in the laft line is impertinent,
having no connexion with the foregoing cha-
racter, nor with the condition of the man
defcribed. Had the epitaph been written on
the poor confpirator * who died lately in
prifon, after a confinement of more than
forty years, without any crime proved again ft
him, the fentiment had been juic end p^the-
tical j but why fhould Trumbal be congra-
tulated upon his liberty, who had never known
reihvdnt ?

III.

On the Hon. SIMON HARCOURT, only Son
of the Lord Chancellor HARCOURT, at
the Church ofStanton-Harcourtin Oxford-
fiire, 1720.

To this fad fhrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near,
Here lies the friend moil lov'd, the fon moft dear :
Who ne'er knew joy, but frienufhip might divide,
Or gave his father grief but when he dy'd.

How vain is reafon, eloquence how weak !
If Pope muft tell what Harcourt cannot fpeak.
Oh, let thy once-lov'd friend infcribe thy Hone,
And with a father's forrows mix his own !

* Bernard!.

This

POPE. 221

Tills epitaph is principally remarkable for
the artful introduction of the name, which
is inferted with a peculiar felicity, to which
chance muft concur with genius, which no
man can hope to attain twice, and which can-
not be copied but with fervile imitation.

I cannot but wifti that, of this infcription,
the two laft lines had been omitted, as they
take away from the energy what they do not
add to the fenfe.

IV.

On JAMES C R A G G s, Efq-t
in Wejlminfter- Abbey.

JACOBUS CRAGGS,

REGI MAGNAE BRITANNIAE A SECRETIS

ET CONSILIIS SANCT1ORIBVS
PRINCIPIS PARITER AC POPULI AMOR ET

DELICIAE :

V1XIT TITULIS ET INVIDIA MAJOR,

ANNOS HEV PAVCOS, XXXV.

OE. FEB. XVI, MDCCXX.

Statefman, yet friend to truth ! of foul fincere,
In action faithful, and in honour clear !

4 Who

222 POP E.

Who broke no promife, ferv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who loft no friend;
Ennobled by himfelf, by all approv'd,
Prais'd, wept, and honour'd, by theMufe he lov'd.

The lines on Craggs were not originally
intended for an epitaph ; and therefore fome
faults are to be imputed to the violence with
which they are torn from the poem that firft
contained them. We may, however, obferve
fome defects. There is a redundancy of
words in the firir, couplet : it is fuperfiuous
to tell of him, who was Jincere, true, and
faithful, that he was in honour dear.

There feems to be an oppofition intended
in the fourth line; which is not very obvious :
where is the relation between the two poiiti-
ons, that he gained no title and loft no friend ?

It may be proper here to remark the ab-
furdity of joining, in the fame infcription,
Latin and Englifh, or verfe and profe. If
either language be preferable to the other, let
that only be ufed ; for no reafon can be given
why part of the information mould be given
in one tongue, and part in another, on a

tomb,

POPE.

22'

tomb, more than in any other place, on any
other ocean" ou ; and to tell all that can be
conveniently told in verfe, and then to call in
the help of profe, has always the appearance
of a very artlels expedient, or of an attempt
unaccomplished. Such an epitaph refembles
the converfation of a foreigner, who tells part
of his meaning by words, and conveys part
by figns.

Intended for Mr. R o w E .
In W eft minfter- Abbey.

Thy reliques, Rowe, to this fair urn we truft,
And facred, place by Dryden's awful duft :
Beneath a rude and namelefs ftone he lies,
To which thy tomb fhall guide inquiring eyes.
Peace to thy gentle fhade, and endlefs reft !
Bleft in thy genius, in thy love too bleft !
One grateful woman to thy fame fupplies
What a whole thanklefs land to his denies.

Of this infeription the chief fault is, that
it belongs lefs to Rowe, for whom it was
written, than to Dry den, who was buried near
him; and indeed gives very little information
concerning either.

224 POP E.

To wim, Peace to thyfoadc, is too my tholo*
glcal to be admitted into a chriilian temple :
the ancient wormip has infected almoft all
our other compoiitions, and might therefore
be contented to fpare our epitaphs. Let fic-
tion, at ieaft, ceafe with life, and let us be
ferious over the grave*

VI.

On Mrs. CORBET,
to bo died of a Cancer in her

Here refts a woman, good without pretence1,
Bleft with plain reafon, and with fober fenfe ;
No conqueft fhe, hut o'er herfelf defied;
No arts efTay'd, but not to be admir'd.
Paffion and pride were to her foul unknown,
Convinc'd that Virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, fo compos'd a mind,
So firm, yet foft, fo ftrong, yet fo refin'd>
Heaven, as its pureft gold, by tortures try'dj
The faint fuftained, but the woman dy'd.

I have always confidered this as the mofh
valuable of all Po^ e's epitaphs ; the fubjecl
of it is a characlier not diicrimirtated by any
fhining or eminent peculiarities $ yet that

wh.. -^

P^ O P E. 225

ivhich really-makes, though not the fplendor,
the felicity of life, and that which every wife
man will choofe for his final and lafting com-
panion in the languor of age, in the quiet of
privacy, when he departs weary and difgufled
from the often tatious, the volatile, and the
vain. Of fuch a character, which the 'dull
overlook, and the gay defpife, it was fit that
the value ihould be made known, and the dig-
nity eftablifhed. Domeflick virtue, as it is
exerted without great occaiions, or confpi-
cuous confequences, in an even unnoted
tenor, required the genius of Pope to difplay
it in fuch a manner as might attract regard,
and enforce reverence. Who can forbear to
lament that this amiable woman has no name
in the verfe's ?

If the particular lines of this infcription
be examined, it will appear lefs faulty than
the reft. There is fcarce one line taken from
common places, unlefs it be that in which
only Virtue is faid to be our own. I once heard
a Lady of great beauty and excellence object to
the fourth line, that it contained an unnatu-
ral and incredible panegyrick. Of this let
the Ladies judge.

VOL. IV. VII.

226 POP E*

VII.

On the Monument of the Hen. ROBERT
D i G B Y, and of his Sifter MARY, ereffied
by their Father the Lord D I G B Y, in the
Church of Sher borne in DorfetjJnre, 1727.

Go ! fair example of untainted youth,
Of modeil wifdom, and pacifick truth :
Compos'd in fufferings, and in joy fedate,
Good without noife, without pretenfion great.
Juft of thy word, in every thought fincere,
Who knew no wilh but what the world might hear:
Of fofteft manners, unaffected mind,
Lover of peace, and friend of human kind :
Go, live ! for heaven's eternal year is thine,
Go, and exalt thy mortal to divine.

And thou, bleft maid ! attendant 6n his doom,
Penfive haft follow'd to the filent tomb,
Steer'd the fame courfe to the fame quiet fhore,

Not parted long, and now to part no more !
Go, then, where only blifs fincere is known !
Go, where to love and to enjoy are one !

Yet take thefe tears, Mortality's relief,
And till we (hare your joys, forgive our grief:
Thefe little rites, a ftone, a verfe receive,
''Tis all a father, all a friend can give !

2 This

POPE. 227

This epitaph contains of the brother only
a general indifcriminate character, and of the
fitter tells nothing but that fhe died. The
difficulty in writing epitaphs is to give a par-
ticular and appropriate praife. This, how-
ever, is not always to be performed, whatever
be the diligence or ability of the writer ; for
the greater part of mankind have no character
at all, have little that dittinguifhes them from
others equally good or bad, and therefore
nothing can be laid of them which may not
be applied with equal propriety to a thoufand
more. It is indeed no great panegyrick, that
there is inclofed in this tomb one who was
born in one year, and died in another ; yet
many ufeful and amiable lives have been
fpent, which yet leave little materials for any
other memorial. Thefe are however not the
proper fubjects of poetry ; and whenever
friendmip, or any other motive, obliges a
poet to write on fuch fubjects, he mufl be
forgiven if he fometimes wanders in genera-
lities, and utters the fame praifes over diffe-
rent tombs.

The fcantinefs of human praifes can fcarce-
ly be made more apparent, than by remarking

how

228 POP E.

How often Pope has, in the few epitaphs
which he compofed, found it neceffary to
borrow from himfelf. The fourteen epitaphs,
which he has written, comprife about an hun-
dred and forty lines, in which there are more
repetitions than will eafily be found in all the
reft of his works. In the eight lines which
make the character of Digby, there is fcarce
any thought, or word, which may not be
found in the other epitaphs.

The ninth line, which is far the ftrongeft
and moft elegant, is borrowed from Dryden.
The conclulion is the fame with that on
Harcourt, but is here more elegant and better

connected.

VIII.

On Sir GODFREY KNELL E R .
In Weft minfter- Abbey, 1723.

Kneller, by heaven, and not a matter taught,
Whofe art was nature, and whofe pictures thought 5
Now for two ages, having fnatch'd from fate
Whate'er was beauteous, or whate'er was great,
Lies crcrwn'd with Princes honours, Poets lays,
Due to his merit, and brave thiril of praife.

Living, great Nature fear'd he might outvie
Her works \ and dying, fears herfelf may die.

3 Of

POPE. 229

Of this epitaph the firfl couplet is good,
the fecond not bad, the third is deformed
with a broken metaphor, the word crowned
not being applicable to the honours or the /ays,
and the fourth is not only borrowed from
the epitaph on Raphael, but of very harfli
poflftru&ion.

IX.

On General HENRY WITHERS,
In Wejlminjler- Abbey, 1729.

Here3 Withers, reft ! thou braveft, gentleft mind3
Thy country's friend, but more of human kind,
O ! born to arms ! O ! worth in youth approv'd!
O ! foft humanity in age belov'd !
For thee the hardy veteran drops a tear,
And the gay courtier feels the figh fincere.

Withers, adieu! yet not with thee remove
Thy martial fpirit, or thy focial love !
Amidft corruption, luxury, and rage,
Still leave fome ancient virtues to our age :
Nor let us fay (thofe Englifh glories gone)
The laft true Briton lies beneath this Hone,,

250 POP E.

The epitaph on Withers affords another
inftance of common places, though fome-
whatdiverfified, by mingled qualities, and the
peculiarity of a profeffion.

The fecond couplet is abrupt, general, and
unpleafing ; exclamation feldom fucceeds in
our language; and, I think, it may be ob-
ferved that the particle O ! ufed at the begin-
ning of a fentence, always offends.

The third couplet is more happy 3 the value
expreffed for him, by different forts of men,
raifes him to efteem ; there is yet fomething
of the common cant of fuperficial fatirifts,
\vho fuppofe that the infmcerity of a courtier
deftroys all his fenfations, and that he is
equally a diffembler to the living and the dead.

At the third couplet I {hould wim the epi-
taph to clofe, but that I mould be unwilling
to lofe the two next lines, which yet are dearly
bought if they cannot be retained without
the four that follow them.

POPE. 23;

On Mr. ELIJAH FEN TON.
At Eajlhamfted in Berkfiire, 1730.

This modeft (lone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly fay, Here lies an honeft man :
A poet, bleft beyond the poet's fate,
Whom Heaven kept facred from the Proud and

Great :

Foe to loud praife, and friend to learned eafe,
Content with fcience in the vale of peace.
Calmly he look'd on either life j and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear j
From Nature's temperate feaft rofe fatisfy'd,
Thank'd heaven that he had liv'd, and that he dy'd.

The firft couplet of this epitaph is borrow-
ed from Crafiaw. The four next lines con-
tain a fpecics of praife peculiar, original, and
juil. Here, therefore, the infcription fhould
have ended, the latter part containing nothing
but what is common to every man who is wife
and good. The character of Fenton was fo
amiable, that I cannot forbear to wiflifor fome
poet or biographer to difplay it more fully for
the advantage of pofterity. If he did not ftand
in the fir ft rank of genius, he may claim a
place in the fecond; and, whatever criticifm

POP E.

may object to his writings, cenfure could find
very little to blame in his life,

XL
On Mr. GAY.

In Wejlminfter- Abbey, 1732.

Of manners gentle, of affeclions mild;
In wit, a man; flmplicitya a child :
With native humour tempering virtuous rage,,
Forrn'd to delight at once and lafli the age :
Above temptation, in a low eflate,
And uncorrupted, ev'n among the Great :
A fale companion, and an eafy friend,
Unblam'd through life, lamented in thy end.
Thefe are thy honours ! not that here thy bufl
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy dull;
But that the Worthy and the Good fhall fay,
Striking their penfive bofoms- — Here lies GAY.

As Gay was the favourite of our author,
this epitaph was probably written with an
uncommon degree of attention ; yet it is not
more fuccefsfully executed than the reft, for
it will not always happen that the fuccefs of
a poet is proportionate to his labour. The
fame obfervation maybe extended to all works
of imagination, which are often influenced
by caufes wholly out of the performer's

power,

P O P E. 233

power, by hints of which he perceives not
the origin, by fudden elevations of mind
which he cannot produce in himfelf, and
which fometimes rife when he expects them
JeaftJ

The two parts of the firft line are only
echoes of each other; gentle manners andmi/d
affections, if they mean any thing, muft mean
the fame.

That Gay was a man in wit is a very frigid
commendation ; to have the wit of a man is
not much for a poet. The wit of man, and
u&ejtmplicity of a child, make a poor and vul-
gar central, and raife no ideas of excellence,
either intellectual or moral.

Jn the next couplet rage is lefs properly
introduced after the mention of mildnefs and
gentlenefs, which are made the conftituents
of his character; for a man fo mild and gentle
to temper his rcge, was not difficult.

The next line is unharmonious in its found,
and mean in its conception 9 the oppolition is
obvious, and the Word Info ufed abfolutely,

and

234. POP E.

and without any modification, is grois and
improper.

To be above temptation in poverty, and
free from corruption among the Great, is in-
deed fuch a peculiarity as deferved notice.
But to be a fafe companion is praife merely
negative, arifing not from the pofTemon of
virtue, but the abfence of vice, and that one
of the moil odious.

As little can be added to his character, by
afferting that he was lamented in his end.
Every man that dies is, at leaft by the writer
of his epitaph, fuppofed to be lamented, and
therefore this general lamentation does no
honour to Gay.

The firft eight lines have no grammar -3
the adjectives are without any fubftantive,
and the epithets without a fubject.

The thought in the laft line, that Gay is
buried in the bofoms of the worthy and the
good, who are diftinguifhed only to lengthen
the line, is fo dark that few underfland it ;
and fo harm, when it is explained, that ftill
fewer approve*.

XII.

POPE, 235

XII.

Intended for Sir ISAAC NEWTON,

. In Wejlminfter- Abbey.
\
ISAACUS NEWTONIUS:

Quern Immortalem
Teftantur, Tempus, Natura, Cesium :

Mortalem
Hoc m armor fatetur.

Nature, and Nature's laws, lay hid in night,
God faid, Let Newton be ! And all was light.

Of this epitaph, fhort as it is, the faults
feem not to be very few. Why part mould
be Latin and part Englifh, it is not eafy to
difcover. In the Latin, the oppofition of
Immortalis and Mortalis, is a mere found, or
a mere quibble •> he is not immortal in any
fenfe contrary to that in which he is mortal.

In the verfes the thought is obvious, and
the words night and light are too nearly
allied,

XIII,

236 POPE.

XIII.

On EDMUND Duke ^BUCKINGHAM, -why
died in the iqtb Tear of bis Age, 1735.

If modeft youth, with cool reflection crown'd,,
And every opening virtue blooming round,
Could fave a parent's }ufteft pride from fate,,
Or add i one patriot to a finking (late -,
This weeping marble had not afk'd thy tear,
Or fadly told, how many hopes lie here !
The living virtue now had fhone approv'd,
The fenate heard him, and his country lov'd,
Yet fofter honours, and lefs noify fame
Attend the fhade of gentle Buckingham :
In whom a race, for courage fam'd and art,,
Ends in the milder merit of the hearts
And chiefs or fages long to Britain given.
Pays the laft tribute of a faint to heaven,

This epitaph Mr. Warburton prefers to
the reft, but I know not for what reafon,
To crown with reflection is furely a mode of
fpeech approaching to nonfenfe. Opening
virtues blooming round, is fomething like tau-
tology ; the iix following lines are poor and
profaick. Art is in another couplet ufed
for arts, that a rhyme may be had to heart.

The

POPE. 237

The fix laft lines are the beft, but not ex-
cellent.

The reft of his fepulchral performances
hardly deferve the notice of criticifm. The
contemptible Dialogue between HE and SHE
mould have been fuppreiTed for the author's
fake.

In his laft epitaph on himfelf, in which he
attempts to be jocular upon one of the few
things that make wife men ferious, he con-
founds the living man with the dead :

Under this flone, or under this fill,
Or under this turf, &c.

When a man is once buried, the quefHon,
under what he is buried, is eaiily decided. He
forgot that though he wrote the epitaph in a
flate of uncertainty, yet it could not be laid
'over him till his grave was made. Such is
the folly of wit when it is ill employed.

The world has but little new ; even this
wretchednefs feems to have been borrowed

from the following tunelefs lines :

Ludovici

238 POP E.

v -

Ludovici Areofti humantur ofia

Sub hoc marmore, vel Tub hac humo, feu

Sub quicquld voluit benignus hasres
Sive haerede benignior comes, feu
Opportunius incidens Viator j
Nam fcire baud potuit futura, fed nee
Tanti erat vacuum fibi cadaver
Ut utnam cuperet parare vivens,
Vivens ifla tamen fibi paravit.
Quee infcribi voluit fuo fepulchro
Olim fiquod haberetis fepulchrum.

Surely Arioflo did not venture to expeft
that his trifle would have ever had fuch an
illuftrious imitator.

PITT.

239

I T T.

CHRISTOPHER PITT, of whom
whatever I mall relate, more than has
been already publifhed, I owe to the kind
communication of Dr. Warton, was born in
1699 at Blandford, the fon of a phyfician
much efteemed.

He was, in 1714, received as a fcholar in-
to Winchefler College, where he was diftin-
guifhed by exercifes of uncommon elegance ;
and, at his removal to New College in 1719,
prelented to the electors, as the product of
his private and voluntary fludies, a compleat

veriion

PITT.

veriion of Lucan's poem, which he did not
then know to have been tranflated by Rowe.

This is an inftance of early diligence which
\vell deferves to be recorded. The luppref*
•fion of fuch a work, recommended by fuch
uncommon circumflances, is to be regretted.
It is indeed culpable, to load libraries with
fuperfiuous books ; but incitements to early
excellence are never fuperfiuous, and from
this example the danger is not great of many
imitations.

When he had refided at his College three
years, he was prefented to the rectory of
Pimpern in Dorfetmire (1722), by his rela-
tion, Mr. Pitt of Stratfeildfea in Hampfhirc;
and, reiigning his fellowfhip, continued at
Oxford two years longer, till he became Maf-
ter of Arts (1724).

He probably about this time tranflated
Vidas Art of Poetry, which Triftram's fplen-
did edition had then made popular. In this
tranflation he diftinguimed himfelf, both by
its general elegance, and by the fkilful adapta-
tion of his numbers, to the images expreffed ;

PITT. 241

a beauty which Vida has with great ardour
enforced and exemplifiedi

He then retired to his living, a place very
pleafing by its fituation, and therefore likely
to excite the imagination of a poet ; where
he pafled the reft of his life, reverenced for
his virtue* and beloved for the foftnefs of
his temper and the eaiinefs of his manners.
Before ftrangers he had fomething of the
fcholar's timidity or diftruft j but when he
became familiar he was in a very high degree
chearful and entertaining. His general be-
nevolence procured general refpect ; and he
palled a life placid and honourable, neither
too great for the kindnefs of the low, nor too
low for the notice of the great*

VOL. IV. R At

PIT T.

At wh^.t time he compofed his mifcellafry,
published in 1727, it is not eafy nor necefiary
to know : thole which have dates appear to
have been very early productions, and I
have not obferved that any rife above me-
diocrity.

i -9

The fuccefs of his Vi-da animated him to a
higher undertaking ,; and in his thirtieth year
he publifhecl a veriion of the firil book of
the Eneid. This being, I fuppofe,. com-
mended by his friends, he feme time after-
wards added three or four more ; with an ad-
vertifement, in which he reprefents himfelf as

nflatino- with prcat indifference, and with

o o

avprogrefs of which himfelf v/as hardly con-
fcious. This can hardly be true, and, if
true, is nothing to the reader*

At laft, without any further contention
with his mociefty, or any awe of the name
of Dryden, he gave us a complete Englifh
Eneid, which I am forry not to fee joined in
the late publication with his other poems. It
would have been pleafing to have an oppor-
4 tunity

PITT. 243

vanity of comparing the two befl tranflations
that perhaps were ever produced by one na-»
tion of the fame author.

Pitt engaging as a rival with Dryden, na-
turally obferved his failures, and avoided
them -y and, as he wrote after Pope's Iliad,
he had an example of an exact, equable, and
fplendid verification. With thefe advan-
tages, feconded by great diligence, he might
fuccetsfully labour particular pailages, and
efcape many errors. If the two veriions arc
compared, perhaps the refult would be, that
Dryden leads the reader forward by his ge-
neral vigour and fprightHnefs, and Pitt often
flops him to contemplate the excellence of a
fingle couplet ; that Dryden's faults are for-
gotten in the hurry of delight, and that Pitt's
beauties are neglected in the languor of a
cold and liillefs perulal ; that Pitt pleafes the
criticks, and Dryden the people ; that Pitt is
quoted, and Dryden read.

He did not long enjoy the reputation which"
this great work defervedly conferred ; for he

R 2 ' left

244 PIT T.

left the world in 1748, and lies buried un-
der a ftone at Blandford, on which is this
infcription :

In memory of
CHR. PITT, clerk, M. A.

Very eminent
for his talents in poetry ;

and yet more

for the univerfal candour of

his mind, and the primitive

fimplicity of his manners.

He lived innocent,

and died beloved,

Apr. 13, 1748,

aged 48.

THOMSON,

[ 245 I

THOMSON

JAMES THOMSON, the fon of a
minifter well efteemed for his piety and
diligence, was born September 7, 1700, at
Ednam, in the mire of Roxburgh, of which
his father was paftor. His mother, whofe
name was Hume, inherited as co-heirefs a
portion of a final 1 eftate. The reveruie of a
parim in Scotland is feldom large ; and it
was probably in commiferation of the diffi-
culty with which Mr. Thomfon fupportedhis
family, having nine children, that Mr. Ric-
carton, a neighbouring minifter, difcovering
in James uncommon promifes of future ex-
cellence, undertook to fuperintend his educa-
tion, and provide him books.

R 3 He

246 T H O M S O N,

He was taught the common rudiments of
learning at the fchool of Jedburg, a place
which he delights to recoiled: in his poem of
Autumn ; but was not coniidered by his maf-
ter as fuperior to common boys, though in
thofe early days he amufed his patron and his
friends with poetical compolitions j with
which however he fo little pleafed himlelf,
that en every new-year's day he threw in-
to the fire all the productions of the forego-
ing year.

From the fchool he was removed to Edin-r
burgh, where he had not relided two years
when his father died, and left all his children
to the care of their mother, who raifed upon
her little eflate what money a mortgage could
afford, and, removing with her family to
Edinburgh, lived to fee her fon rifing into
eminence.

The deflgn of Thomfon's friends was to
breed him a, minifter. He lived at Edin-
burgh, as at fchool, without diftinclion or
expectation, till, at the ufuai time, he per-
formed a probationary exercife by explain-
ing

T H O M S O N. 247

ing a pfalm. His diction was fo poetically
jfplendid, that Mr. Hamilton, the profeflbr
of Divinity, reproved him for fpeaking lan-
guage unintelligible to a popular audience,
and he cenfurecl one of his expreflions as in-
decent, if not profane.

This rebuke is reported to have reprefTecl
his thoughts of an ecclefiaftical character,
and he probably cultivated with new diligence
his blollbms of poetry, which however were
in fome danger of a blaft; for, fubmitting
his productions to fome who thought them-
felves qualified to criticife, he heard of no-
thing but faults, but, finding other judges
more favourable, he did not fuffer himfelf
to fink into defpondence.

He eafily difcovered that the only ftage on
which a poet could appear, with any hope of
advantage, was London ; a place too wide
for the operation of petty competition and
private malignity, where merit might foon
become confpicuous, and would find friends
as foon as it became reputable to befriend it.
A lady, who was acquainted with his mother,
advifed him to the journey, and promifecl

K 4. fome

248 T H O M S O N,

fome countenance or affiftance, which at lafl
he never received 5 however, he juftified his
adventure by ner encouragement, and came
to feek in London patronage and fame.

At his arrival he found his way to Mr.
Mallet, then tutor to the fons of the duke
pf Montrofe. He had recommendations to
feveral perlons of confequence, which he had
tied up carefully in his handkerchief; but as
he palled along the ftreet, with the gaping
cur.oiity of a new-comer, his attention was
upon every thing rather than his pocket, and
his magazine of credentials was ilolen from
him.

His firft want was of a pair of ihoes. For
the fupply of all his neceffities, his whole
fund was his Winter, which for a time could
find no purchafer -, till, at laft, Mr. Millan
was perfuaded to buy it at a low price ; and
this low price he had for fome time reafon to
regret^ but, by accident, Mr. Whatley, a
men not wholly unknown among authors,
happening to turn his eye upon it, was fo
delighted that he ran from place to place ce-
lebrating its excellence. Thomfon obtained

likewife

T H O M S O N. 24.9

likewife the notice of Aaron Hill, whom,
being friendlefs and indigent, and glad of
kindncfs, he courted with every expreilion of
fervile adulation.

Winter was dedicated to Sir Spencer Comp-
ton, but attracted no regard from him to the
author ; till Aaron Hill awakened his atten-
tion by fome verfes s.ddrelTed to Thomfon,
and publifhed in one of the newfpapers,
which cenfured the great for their neglect of
ingenious men. Thomfon then received a
prefent of twenty guineas, of which he gives
this account to Mr. Hill :

*' 1 hinted to you in my laft, that on Sa-
l< turday morning I was with Sir Spencer
" Compton. A certain gentleman, without
" my defire, fpoke to him concerning me;
" his anfwer was, that I had never come near
" him. Then the gentleman put thequeftion,
" If he deiired that I mould wait on him ?
•" he returned, he did. On this, thegentle-
" man gave me an introductory Letter to
" him. He received me in what they com-
f monly call a civil manner 3 afked me fome
*' common-place quefKons, and made me a

** prefent

250 T H O M S O N.

" prefent of twenty guineas. I am very
<f ready to own that the prefent was larger
" than my performance deferved; and mall
" afcribe it to his generoiity, or any other
" caufe, rather than the merit of the addrefs."

The poem, which, being of a new kind,
few would venture at firfr. to like,, by degrees
gained upon the publick ; and one edition
was very fpeedily fucceeded by another.

Thomfon's credit was now high, and every
day brought him new friends ; among others
Dr. Rundle, a man afterwards unfortunately
famous, fought his acquaintance, and found
his qualities fuch, that he recommended him
to the lord chancellor Talbot.

Winter was accompanied, in many editions,
not only with a preface and a dedication, but
with poetical praifes by Mr. Hill, Mr. Mallet
(then Malloch), and Mira, the fictitious name
of a lady once too well known. Why the
dedications are, to Winter and the other fea-
fons, contrarily to cuftom, left out in the
collected works, the reader may enquire.

The

T H O M S O N. 251

The next year (1727) he diflinguiflied him-
ielf by three publications ; of Summer, in
purfiumce of his plan ; of a Poem on the Death
of Sir Ifaac Newton, which he was enabled
to perform as an exact philolbpher by the in-
ftrudtion of Mr. Gray ; and of Britannia, a
kind of poetical invective againft the miniftry,
whom the nation then thought not forward
enough in refenting the depredations of the
Spaniards. By this piece he declared himfelf
an adherent to the oppofition, and had there-
fore no favour to expect from the Court.

Thomfon, having been fome time enter-
tained in the family of the lord Binning, was
deiirous of teftifying his gratitude by making
him the patron of his Summer ; but the fame
kindnefs which had firft difpofed lord Bint*
ning to encourage him, determined him to
refufe the dedication, which was by his ad-
vice addreffed to Mr. Doddington ; a man
who had more power to advance the reputa^
tion and fortune of a poet,

Spring was publimed next year, with a de-
dication to the coiintefs of Hertford -3 whofe

practice

T H O M S O N.

practice it was to invite every Summer jfome
poet into the country, to hear her verfes, and
aflift her ftudies. This honour was one
Summer conferred on Thomfon, who took
more delight in caroufing with lord Hertford
and his friends than amfting her ladyfhip's
poetical operations, and therefore never re-
ceived another fummons.

Autumn, the feafon to which the Spring and
Summer are preparatory, ftill remained un-
fung, and was delayed till he publifhed (1730)
his works collected.

He produced in 1727 the tragedy of So-
phonijba, which raifed fuch expectation, that
every rehearfal was dignified with a fplendid
audience, collected to anticipate the delight
that was preparing for the publick. It was
obferved however that nobody was much af-
fected, and that the company rofe as from a
moral lecture.

-»

It had upon the ftage no unufual degree
of fuccefs. Slight accidents will operate upon
the tafte of plea&re. There was a feeble line
in the play 3

Q So-

THOMSON. 253

O Sophonifba, Sophonifba, O !
This gave occafion to a waggifh parody;

O, Jemmy Thomfon, Jemmy Thomfon, O

which for a while was echoed through the
town.

I have been told by Savage, that of the Pro-
logue to Sophonijba the firft part was written
by Pope, who could not be perfuaded to finifli
it, and that the concluding lines were added
by Mallet.

Thomfon was not long afterwards, by the
influence of Dr. Rundle, fent to travel with
Mr. Charles Talbot, the eldefl fon of the
Chancellor. He was yet young enough to
receive new impreffions, to have his opinions
redined, and his views enlarged; nor can he
be fuppofed to have wanted that curiolity
which is infeparable from an active and com-
prehenfive mind. He may therefore now be
fuppofed to have revelled in all the joys of
intellectual luxury ; he was every day feafted
with instructive novelties; he lived fplendidly

without

±54 T H O M S O N.

without expence, and might expect when hdf
returned home a certain efcablimment.

At this time a long courfe of oppofition to
Sic Robert Wai pole had filled the nation with
clamours for liberty, of which no man felt
the want, and with care for liberty, which
was not in danger. Thomfon, in his travels
on the continent, found or fancied fo many
evils arifing from the tyranny of other go^
vernments, that he refolved to write a very
long poem, in five parts, upon Liberty*

While he was bufy on the firft book, Mr.
Talbot died -, and Thomfon, who had been
rewarded for his attendance by the place of
fecretary of the Briefs, pays in the initial lines
a decent tribute to his memory.

Upon this great poem two years were fpent,
and the author congratulated himfelf upon
it as his nobleft work; but an author and his
reader are not always of a mind. • Liberty
called in vain upon her votaries to read her
praifes and reward her encomiaft: her praifes
were condemned to harbour fpiders, and to
gatherduft; none of Thomfon's performances
were fo little regarded*

The

T H O M S O N.

255

The judgement of the publick was not er-
roneous ; the recurrence of the fame images
mull tire in time ; an enumeration of exam-
ples to prove a poiition which nobody denied,
as it was from the beginning fuperfluous,
muft quickly grow diigufting.

The poem of Liberty does not now appear
in its original ftate $ but when the author's
works were collected, after his death, v\ras
ihortened by Sir George Lyttelton, with a li-
berty which, as it has a manifeft tendency to
leflen the confidence cf fociety, and to con-
found the characters of authors, by making
one man write by the judgement of 'another,
cannot be juftified by any fuppofed propriety
of the alteration, or kindncfs of the friend.
— I wifh to fee it exhibited as its author left it.

Thomfon now lived in eafe and plenty, and
feems for a while to have fufpended his po-
etry ; but he was foon called back to labour
•by the death of the Chancellor, for his place
then became vacant ; and though the lord
Kardwicke delayed fcr fome time to give it
away, Thomfon's bamfulnefs, or pride, or

fome

256 THOMSON*

fome other motive perhaps not more laudable,
withheld him from foliciting ; and the new
Chancellor would not give him what he would
not afk.

He now relapfed to his former indigence ;
but the prince of Wales was at that time
ftruggling for popularity, and by the influ-
ence of Mr. Lyttelton proferled himfelf the
patron of wit : to him Thomfon was intro-
duced, and being gaily interrogated about the
ilate of his affairs, faid, that they were in a
more poetical pojlure than formerly ; and had a
penfion allowed him of one hundred pounds
a year.

Being now obliged to write, he produced
(1738) the tragedy of Agamemnon, which was
much fhortened in the reprefentation. It
had the fate which moft commonly attends
mythological (lories, and was only endured,
but not favoured. It ftruggled with fuch
difficulty through the firft night, that Thom-
fon, coming late to his friends with whom he-
was to fup, excuied his delay by telling them
how the fweat of his diflrefs had fo difcrdered
his wig, that he could not come till he had
been refitted by a barber-
i

THOMSON. 257

He fo interefted himfelf in his own drama,
that, if I remember right, as he fat in the
upper gallery he accompanied the players by
audible recitation, till a friendly hint frighted
him to filence. Pope countenanced Agamem-
non, by coming to it the firft night, and was
welcomed to the theatre by a general clap $
he had much regard for Thomfon, and once
exprerTed it in a poetical Epiftle fent to Italy,
of which however he abated the value, by
tranfplanting fome of the lines into his
Epiftle to Arbutbnot.

About this time the Adi: was paifed for li-
cenfmg plays, of which the firft operation
was the prohibition of Guftavus Vafa, a tra-
gedy of Mr. Brooke, whom the publick fe-
compenfed by a very liberal fubfcription ; the
next was the refufal of Edward and Eleanor a,
offered by Thomfon. It is hard to difcover
why either play mould have been obftructed.
Thomfon likewife endeavoured to repair his
lofs by a fubfcription, of which I cannot
now tell the fuccefs.

.When the publick murmured at the unkind

treatment of Thomfon, one of the minifterial

VOL. IV. S writers

25S T H O M S O N.

writers remarked, that he had taken a Liberty
'which was not agreeable to Britannia in any
Seafon.

He was foon aft^r employed, in conjunc-
tion with Mr. Mallet, to write the mafque
of Alfred, which was aded before the Prince
at Cliefden-houfe.

His next work (1745) was Bartered and
Sigifmunda, the moil fuccefsfulof all his trage-
dies ; for it flill keeps its turn upon the ftage.
It may be doubted whether he was, either
by the bent of nature or habits of fludy, much
qualified for tniged,7. It does not appear
that he had much icnfe of the pathetick, and
his difniiive and defcriptive flyle produced
(declamation rather than dialogue.

His friend Mr. Lyttelton was now in power,
and conferred upon him the office of f'ur-
veyor-general of the Leeward Iflands -y from
which, when his deputy was paid, he received
about three hundred pounds a year.

The laft piece that he lived to publim was
the Caftle of Indolence, which was many years
under his hand, but was at lafl finimed with

great

T O M S O N; 259

great accuracy. The fir ft canto opens a fcene
of lazy luxury, that fills the imagination.

He was now at eafe, but was not long to
enjoy it; for, by taking cold on the water
between London and Kew, he caught a dif-
order, which, with fome carelefs exafperation,
ended in a fever that put an end to his life^
Auguft 27, 1748. He was buried in the
church of Richmond, without an infcription ;
but a monument has been erected to his me-
mory in Wefhninfrer-abbey.

Thpmfoii was of ftature above the middle
fize, Anymore fat than bard befeems, of a dull
countenance, andagrofs, unanimated, unin-
viting appearance ; iilent in mingled company,
but chearful among felecl friends, and by his
friends very tenderly and warmly beloved.

He left behind him the tragedy of Corio-
lanus, which was, by the zeal of his patron
Sir George Lyttelton, brought upon theftage
for the benefit of his family, and recom-
mended by a Prologue, which Quin, who
had long lived with Thomfon in fond inti-
macy, fpoke in fuch a manner as mewed him
to be, on that occafion, no a5lor. The com-

S 2 mencement

26o THOMSON.

rnencernent of this benevolence is very ho-
nourable to Quin ; who is reported to have
delivered Thomfon, then known to him only
for his genius, from an arrefl, by a very
conliderable prefent j and its continuance is
honourable to both -y for friendmip is not al-
ways the fequel of obligation. By this tragedy
a confiderable fum was raifed, of which part
difcharged his debts, and the reft was remit-
ted to his fitters, whom, however removed
from them by place or condition, he regarded
with great tendernefs, as will appear by the
following Letter, which I communicate with
much pleafure, as it gives me at once an op-
portunity of recording the fraternal kindnefs
of Thomfon, and reflecting on the friendly
afliftance of Mr. Bofwell, from whom I re-
ceived it.

" Plagley in Worcefterfhire,
" October the 4th, 1747.
My dear Sifter,

I thought you had known me better
than to interpret my filence into a decay
of affection, efpecially as your behaviour
has always been fuch as rather to increafe
tharj diminiih it. Don't imagine, becaufe

" I am

te
t(
tt
te

<. t

THOMSON. 261

I am a bad correfpondent, that I can ever
prove an unkind friend and brother. I muft
do myfelf the juftice to tell you, that my af-
fections are naturally very fixed and con-
ftant; and if I had ever reafon of complaint
againft you (of which by the bye I have not
the leaft fliadow), I am confciousof fo many
defects in myfelf, as difpofe me to be not
a little charitable and forgiving.

" It °"ives me the trueft heart-felt fatif-

<( faction to hear you have a good kind huf-
" band, and are in eafy contented circum-
" fiances -f but were they otherwife, that
" would only awaken and heighten my ten-
" dernefs towards you. As our good and
" tender-hearted parents did not live to re-
ceive any material teftimonies of that
higheil human gratitude I owed them (than
tc which nothing could have given me equal
" pleafure), the only return I can make
" them now is by kindnefs to thofe they
t( left behind them : would to God poor
" Lizy had lived longer, to have been a
" farther witnefs of die truth of what I fay,
" and that I might have had the pleafure of
" feeing once more a lifter, who fo truly de-

83 " ferved

f<
"

262 T H O M S O N.

" lerved my eileem and love. Eat me is
" happy, while we mufl toil a little longer
" here below: let us however do it chear-
" fully and gratefully, fupported by the
" oleaimg hope of meeting yet again on a
" fafer lliore, where to recollect the florins
" and difficulties of life will not perhaps be
" inccniiflent with that blifsful (late. You
" did right to call your daughter by her
" name ; for you muft needs have had a par-
(( ticular tender friendfhip for one another,
fi endeared as you were by nature, by hav-
" ing palled the affectionate years of your
youth together ; and by that great foftner
and engager of hearts, mutual hardfhip.
*' That it was in my power to eafe it a
" little, I account one of the moil exquifite
" pleafures of my life. — But enough of this
" melancholy though not unplcaiing itrain.

" 1 efleem you for your fenfible and difin-
*' terefled advice to Mr. Bell, as you will fee
*' by my Letter to him : as I approve entire-
" ly of his marrying again, you may readily
*£ ail: me why I don't marry at all. My cir-
" cumilances have hitherto been fo variable

" and

a
ti

. c

e ;

T H O V : O

"'and uncertain in thi Id, as

" induce to me froraen rng in fuch a

" itate : and now, thou0h they -are more
" le::L/i, and of l.-.te (which you will be
" glad to hear) coniiderably improved, I
" begin to think mvfelf too far advanced in
" life for fuch youthful undertakings, not to
" mention fome other petty reafons that are
apt to itartle the delicacy of difficult old
:ehelcr?. I am, however, not a little
" fufpicious that was I to pay a vilit to Scot-
" land (which I have fome thoughts of
" doing icon) I might pcilibly be tempted
<( to think ot a thing not eailly repaired if
<£ done amif;. I have always been of opi-
<c nion that none make better wives than
" the ladies of Scotland; and yet, who more
" forfaken than they, while the gentlemen
t( are continually running abroad all the

" world over ? Some of them, it is true, are
'' wife enough to return for a wife. You
" fee I am beginning to make intereil already
" with the Scots ladies. — But no more of
" this infefiious fubject. — Pray let me hear
from vou now and then : and though I

* \-s

am not a regular cori';.- ndent,
(f haps I may mend in that re el. Rt-

S 4 " member

t (

( C

THOMSON.

*' member me kindly to your huiband, and
" believe me to be,

*' Your moft affectionate brother,

" JAMES THOMSON."

(Addrefied) " To Mrs. Thomfon in Lanark.''

The benevolence of Thomfon was fervid,
but not active ; he would give, on all occa-
fions, what afliftance his purfe would fup-
ply ; but the offices of intervention or felici-
tation he could not conquer his iluggifhnefs
fufficiently to perform. The affairs of others,
however, were not more neglected than his
own. He had often felt the inconveniences
of idlenefs, but he never cured it -> and was
fo confcious of his own character, that he
talked of writing an Eaflern Tale of the Man
o loved to be in Diftrefs.

Among his peculiarities was a very un*
fkilful and inarticulate manner of pronoun-
cing any lofty or folemn compcfition. He
was once reading to Doddington, who, being
himfelf a reader eminently elegant, was
fo much provoked by his odd utterance,
that he fnatched the paper from his hand,
2 and

THOMSON. 265

and told him that he did not underfland his
own verfes.

The biographer of Thomfon has remark-
ed, that an author's life is beft read in his
works : his obfervation was not well-timed.
Savage, who lived much with Thomfon, once
told me, how he heard a lady remarking that
(he could gather from his works three parts
of his character, that he was a great Lover,
a great Swimmer, and rigoroujly abftinent ;
but, faid Savage, he knows not any love but
that of the fex ; he was perhaps never in cold
water in his life ; and he indulges himfelf in
all the luxury that comes within his reach;
Yet Savage always fpoke with the moil eager
praife of his focial qualities, his warmth and
conftancy of friendfhip, and his adherence to
his fir ft acquaintance when the advancement
of his reputation had left them behind him.

As a writer, he is entitled to one praife of
the higheft kind : his mode of thinking, and
of expreffing his thoughts, is original. His
blank verfe is no more the blank verfe of Mil-
ton, or of any other poet, than the rhymes
of Prior are the rhymes of Cowley. His

numbers,

266 T H O M S O N.

numbers, his paufes, his diction, are of his
own growth, without tranfcription, without
imitation. He thinks in a peculiar train,
and he thinks always as a man of genius ; he
looks round on Nature and on Life, with the
eye which Nature bellows only on a poet ; the
eye that cliftinguimes, in every thing p relented
to its view, whatever there is on which imajn-

nation can delight to be detained, and with a
mind that at once comprehends the vaft, and
attends to the minute. The reader of the
Seafons wonders that he never faw before what
Thomfon mews him, and that he never yet

has felt what Thomfon imprefTes,

His is one of the works in which blank
verfe feems properly ufed ; Thomfcn's wide
expaniion of general views, and his enumera-
tion of circumftantial varieties, would have
been obllructed and embarrarTed by the fre-
quent interfeclion of the fenfe, which are the
necefTary effects of rhyme.

His defcriptions of extended fcenes and ge-
neral el'Fecls bring before us the whole mag-
nificence of Nature, whether plealing or
dreadful. The gaiety of S+rir.g, the fplen-

doup

THOMSON. 267

dour of Summert the tranquillity of Autumn,
and the horror of Winter, take in their turns
pcflerTion of the mind. The poet leads us
through the appearances of things as they
are fucceflively varied by the vicimtudes of
the year, and imparts to us fo much of his
own enthuliafm, that our thoughts expand
with his imagery, and kindle with his fenti-
inents. Nor is the naturalift without his
part in the entertainment ; for he is affifted
to recollect and to combine, to arrange his
difcoveries, and to amplify the fphere of his
contemplation,

The great defect of the Scafons is Vvrant of
method j but for this 1 know not that there
was any remedy. Of many appearances fub-
iifting all at once, no rule can be given why
one mould be mentioned before another ;
yet the memory wants the help of order, and
the curiofity is not excited by fufpenfe or ex-
pectation.

His diction is in the hi^heft decree florid

o o

and luxuriant, fuch as may be faid to be to
his images and thoughts both their luftre ci.
their jhade • fuch as invefl them with fpl<

268 THOMSON.

dour, through which perhaps they are not al-
ways eafily difcerned. It is too exuberant,
and fometimes may be charged with filling
the ear more than the mind.

Thefe Poems, with which I was acquaint-
ed at their firft appearance, I have fmce found
altered and enlarged by fubfequent revifals, as
the author fuppofed his judgement to grow
more exact, and as books or converfation
extended his knowledge and opened his pro-
fpedls. They are^ I think, improved in ge-
neral j yet I know not whether they have
not loft part of what Temple calls their race ;
a word which, applkd to wines, in its pri-
mitive fenie, means the flavour of the foil.

Liberty, when it firft appeared, I tried to
read, and foon delifted. I have never tried
again, and therefore will not hazard either
praife or cenfure.

The higheft praife which he has received
ought not to be fiippreft -, it is faid by Lord
Lyttelton in the Prologue to his pofthumous
play, that his works contained

No line which5 dying, he could wiih to blot.

WATT S.

[ 269 ]

WATTS.

THE Poems of Dr. WATTS were by
my recommendation inferted in the
late Collection , the readers of which are to
impute to me whatever pleafure or wearinefs
they may find in the perufal of Blackmore,
Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden.

ISAAC WATTS was born July 17,
1674, at Southampton, where his father, of
the fame name, kept a boarding-fchool for
young gentlemen, though common report
makes him a moemaker. Reappears, from
the narrative of Dr. Gibbons, to have been
neither indigent nor illiterate.

Ifaac,

270

WATTS.

Ifaac, the eldeflof nine children, was given
to books from his infancy ; and began, we
are told, to learn Latin when he was four
years old, i fuppofe, at home. He was af-
terwards taught Latin, Greek, and Hebrew,
by Mr. Pinhorne, a clergyman, mailer of
the Freefchool at Southampton, to whom
the gratitude of his fcholar afterwards in-
fcribed a Latin ode.

His proficiency at fchool was fo confpicu-
ous, that a fubfcription was propofed for his
fupport at the Univerfity ; but he declared
his refolution to take his lot with the DirTen-
ters. Such he was as every Chriilian ChurcH
would rejoice to have adopted.

He therefore repaired in 1690 to ari aca-
demy taught by Mr. Rowe, where he had
for his companions and fellow-ftudents Mr.
Hughes the poet, and Dr. Horte, afterwards
Archbifhop of Tuam. Some Latin EfTays,
fuppofed to have been written as exercifes at
this academy, mew a degree of knowledge,
both philofophical and theological, fuch as
very few attain by a much longer courfe of
fiudy.

WATTS. 271

He was, as he hints in his Mifcellanies, a
maker of veries from fifteen to fifty, and in
his youth he appears to have paid attention
to Latin poetry. His veries to his brother,
in the glyconick meafure, written when he
v/as ibventeen, are remarkably eafy and ele-
gant. Some of his other odes are deformed
by the Pindarick folly then prevailing, and
are written with fuch neglect of all metrical
rules as is without example among the anci-
ents ; but his diction, though perhaps not
always exactly pure, has fuch copioumefs
and fplendour, as mews that he was but at a
very little diftance from excellence.

His method of ftudy was to imprefs the
contents of his books upon his memory by
abridging them, and by interleaving them
to amplify one fyitem with fupplernents
from another.

With the congregation of his tutor Mr.
Rowe, who were, I believe, Independents,
he communicated in his nineteenth year.

At the age of twenty he left the academy,
and fpent two years in ftudy and devotion

272 WATTS.

at the houfe of his father, who treated him
with great tendernefs ; and had the happi-
nefs, indulged to few parents, of living to
fee his fon eminent for literature and vene-
rable for piety.

He was then entertained by Sir John Har-
topp five years, as domeflick tutor to his fon ;
and in that time particularly devoted himfelf
to the ftudy of the Holy Scriptures • and be-
ing chofen affiftant to Dr. Chauncey, preach-
ed the firft time on the birth-day that com-
pleated his twenty-fourth year ; probably
confidering that as the day of a fecond nati-
vity, by which he entered on a new period
of exigence,

In about three years he fucceeded Dr.
Chauncey ; but, foon after his entrance on
his charge, he was feized by a dangerous ill-
nefs, which funk him to fuch weaknefs, that
the congregation thought an amftant necef-
fary, and appointed Mr. Price. His health
then returned gradually, and he performed
his duty, till (1712) he was feized by a fever
of fuch violence and continuance, that, from
the feeblenefs which it brought upon him, he
never perfectly recovered.

This

WATTS. 273

This calamitous ftate made the companion
of his friends neceflary, and drew upon him
the attention of Sir Thomas Abney, who re-
ceived him into his houfe ; where, with a
conftancy of friendiliip and uniformity of
conduct not often to be found, he was treated
for thirty-iix years with all the kindnefs that
friendiliip could prompt, and all the attention
that refpect could dictate. Sir Thomas died
about eight years afterwards ; but he conti-
nued with the lady and her daughters to the
end of his life. The lady died about a year
after him.

A coalition like this, a ftate in which the
notions of patronage and dependence were
overpowered by the perception of reciprocal
benefits, deferves a particular memorial ; and
I will not withhold from the reader Dr. Gib-
bons's reprefentation, to which regard is to be
paid as to the narrative of one who writes
what he knows, and what is known likewife
to multitudes befides.

" Our nextobfervation mall be made upon
" that remarkably kind Providence which
" brought the Doctor into Sir Thomas Ab-

VOL. IV. T " ney's

tt
st
et

274 WATTS.

ney's family, and continued him there till
his death, a period of no lefs than thirty-
fix years. In the midfr, of his facred labours
for the glory of God, and good of his ge-
" neration, he is feized with a moft violent
" and threatening fever, which leaves him
opprefled with great weaknefs, and puts a
ftop at leaft to his publick fervices for four
years. In this diflremng feafon, doubly fo
to his active and pious fpirit, he is invited
to Sir Thomas Abney's family, nor ever
removes from it till hehadfiniihed his days.
" Here he enjoyed the uninterrupted demon-
flrations of the trueft friendfhip. Here,
without any care of his own, he had every
thing which could contribute to the enjoy-
ment of life, and favour the unwearied
purfuits of his ftudies. Here he dwelt in
a family, which, for piety, order, harmony,
and every virtue, was an houfe of God.
Here he had the privilege of a country re-
cefs, the fragrant bower, the fpreading
e{ lawn, the flowery garden, and other ad-
*' vantages, to footh his mind and aid his
c< reftoration to health ; to yield him, when-
" ever he chofe them, moil grateful intervals
** from his laborious ftudies, and enable him

3 « tc

tt
tc
a
tt
tt
tt

ft
ft

tt
tt
if
ft

WATTS. 275

" to return to them with redoubled vigour
" and deli eh t. Had it not been for this moil

^_ '

" happy event, he might, as to outward view,
" have feebly, it may be painfully, dragged
" on through many more years of languor,
" and inability for publick fervice, and even
" for profitable ftudy, or perhaps might have
" funk into his grave under the overwhelming
" load of infirmities in the midft of his days;
" and thus the church and world would have
" been deprived of thofe many excellent fer-
" mons and works, which he drew up and
" publifhed during his long reiidence in this
" family. In a few years after his coining
" hither, Sir Thomas Abney dies ; but his
" amiable confort furvives, who {hews the
" Doctor the fame refpect and friendship as
" before, and moil happily for him and great
" numbers beiides ; for, as her riches were
" great, her generality and munificence were
" in full proportion; her thread of life was
*' drawn out to a great age, even beyond that
" of the Doctor's ; and thus this excellent
" man, through her kindnefs, and that of
" her daughter, the prcfent Mrs. Elizabeth
" Abney, who in a like degree efteemed and
" honoured him, enjoyed all the benefits and

T 2 " felicities

276 WATTS.

" felicities he experienced at his firft entrance
" into this family, till his days were num-
" bered and fmifhed, and, like a mock of
" corn in its feafon, he afcended into the re-
'* gions of perfect and immortal life and
" joy."

If this quotation has appeared long, let it
be confidered that it comprifes an account of
jQx-and-thirty years, and thofe the years of
Dr. Watts.

From the time of his reception into this
family, his life was no otherwife diverfified
than by fucceffive publications. The feries
of his works I am not able to deduce ; their
number, and their variety, mew the intenfe-
nefs of his industry, and the extent of his
capacity.

He was one of the firft authors that taught
the Diffenters to court attention by the graces
of language. Whatever they had among
them before, whether of learning or acutenefs,
was commonly obfcured and blunted by
coarfenefs and inelegance of ftyle. He {hewed
them, that zeal and purity might be exprefled
and enforced by polimed diction.

WATTS. 277

He continued to the end of his life the
teacher of a congregation, and no reader of
his works can doubt his fidelity or ailigence.
In the pulpit, though his iow feature, which
very little exceeded five feet, graced him with
no advantages of appearance, yet the gravity
and propriety of his utterance made his dif-
courfes very efficacious. I once mentioned
the reputation which Mr. Fofbr had gained
by his proper delivery to my friend Dr.
Hawkefworth, who told me, that in the art
of pronunciation he was far inferior to Dr.
Watts.

Such was his flow of thoughts, and fuch
his promptitude of language, that in the latter
part of his life he did not precompofe his cur-
lory fermons; but having adjufted the heads,
and iketched out fome particulars, trufled for
fuccefs to his extemporary powers.

He did not endeavour to amfl his eloquence
by any gefticulations •> for, as no corporeal
actions have any correfpondence with the-
ological truth, Jie did not fee how they could
enforce it.

T 3 At

278 WATTS.

At the conclufion of weighty fentences he
gave time, by a fhort paufe, for the proper
impreffion.

To ftated and publick infcruction he added
familiar vifits and perfonal application", and
was C2 reful to improve the opportunities
which converfatlon offered of diffufing and
incredins: the influence of religion.

-*ai. t. A J. W AlJXJ.Vifc^J.J'*^*^ X-'Jfc JL ^ J. -•- •' J

By his natural temper he was quick of re-
fentmcnt ; but, by his eilabliihed and habi-
tual practice, he was gentle, moderi, and in-
ofFer.live. His tendernefs appeared in his at-
tention to children, and to the poor. To the
poor, while he lived in the family of his friend,
he allowed the third part of his annual reve-
nue, though the whole was not a hundred a
year; and for children, he condefcended to lay
afidethe fcholar, the philofopher, and the wit,
to write little poems of devotion, and fyflems
of inftruction, adapted to their wants and ca-
pacities, from the dawn of reafon through its
gradations of advance in the morning of life.
Every man, acquainted with the common
principles of human action, will look with ve-
neration

WATTS. 279

neration on the writer who is at one time com-
bating Locke, and at another making a cate-
chifm for children in their fourth year. A
voluntary defcent from the dignity of fcience
is perhaps the hardeft leiTon that humility
can teach.

As his mind was capacious, his curiofity
excuriive, and his industry continual, his
writings are very numerous, and his fubjects
various. With his theological works I am
only enough acquainted to admire his meek-
nefs of oppolition, and his mildnefs of cen-
fure. It was not only in his book but in his
mind that orthodoxy was umffdvtith charity.

Of his philofophical pieces, his Logick
has been received into the univeriities, and
therefore wants no private recommendation :
if he owes part of it to Le Clerc, it muff: be
confidered that no man who undertakes merely
to methodife or illuftrate a fyfbem, pretends
to be its author.

In his metaphyfical difquiiitions, it was ob-
ferved by the late learned Mr. Dyer, that he
confounded the idea of fpace with that of

T 4 empty

28o WATTS.

empty fpace, and did not confider that though
fpace might be without matter, yet matter
being extended, could not be without fpace.

Few books have been perufed by me with
greater pleafure than his Improvement of the
Mind, of which the radical principles may
indeed be found in Locke's Conduff of the Un-
der/landing, but they are fo expanded and
ramified by Watts, as to confer upon him
the merit of a work in the higheft degree
ufeful and pleaiing. Whoever has the care
of intruding others, may be charged with
deficience in his duty if this book is not re-
commended,

I have mentioned his treatifes of Theology
as diftinct from his other productions ; but
the truth is, that whatever he took in hand
was, by his inceffant folicitude for fouls, con-
verted to Theology. As piety predominated
in his mind, it is diffufed over his works :
under his direction it may be truly faid,
Ueologite Pbilofopbia ancillatur, philofophy is
fubfervient to evangelical instruction ; it is
difficult to read a page without learning, or
.at leaft wifliing, to be better. The attention

WATT 281

is caught by indirect inftrudKon, and he that
(at down only to rcafon is on a fudclen com-
pelled to pray.

It was therefore with great propriety that,
in 1728, he received from Edinburgh and
Aberdeen an unfolicited diploma, by which he
became a Doctor of Divinity. Academical
honours would have more value, if they were
always beflowed with equal judgement.

He continued many years to finely and to
preach, and to do good by his inftruction and
example; till at laft the infirmities of age
difabled him from the more laborious part of
his minifterial functions, and, being no longer
capable of publick duty, he offered to remit
the falary appendant to it ; but his congre-
gation would not accept the refignation.

By degrees his weaknefs increafed, and at
lad confined him to his chamber and his bed;
where he was worn gradually away without
pain, till he expired Nov. 25, 1748, in the
jeventy-fifth year of his age.

Few

282 WATTS.

Few men have left behind fuch purity of
character, or fuch monuments of laborious
piety. He has provided inftrucliion for all
ages, from thofe who are lifping their firft
leiibns, to the enlightened readers of Mal-
branche and Locke; he has left neither cor-
poreal nor fpiritual nature unexarnined ; he
has taught the art of reafoning, and the fci-
encc of the ftars.

His character, therefore, mud be formed
from the multiplicity and diverfity of his at-
tainments, rather than from any fingle per-
formance • for it would not be fafe to claim
for him the higher! rank in any fingle deno-
mination of literary dignity; yet perhaps
there was nothing in which he would not
have excelled, if he had not divided his
powers to different purfuits.

As a poet, had he been only a poet, he
would probably have flood high among the
authors with whom he is now affociated.
For his judgement was exact, and he noted
beauties and faults with very nice difcern-
ment ; his imagination, as the Dacian Battle

proves,

WATT S. 283

proves, was vigorous and active, and the
ftores of knowledge were large by which his
fancy was to be fupplied. His ear was
well-tuned, and his diction was elegant and
copious. But his devotional poetry is, like
that of others, un fat is factory. The paucity
of its topicks enforces perpetual repetition,
and the fanclity of the matter rejects the or-
naments of figurative diction. It is fufficient
for Watts to have done better than others
what no man has done well.

His poems on other fubjects feldom rife
higher than might be expected from the
amufements of a Man of Letters, and have
different degrees of value as they are more or
lefs laboured, or as the occarion was more or
lefs favourable to invention.

He writes too often without regular mea-
ilires, and too often in blank verfe • the
rhymes are not always Sufficiently correfpon-
dent. He is particularly unhappy in coining
names exprefiive of characters. His lines
are commonly fmooth and eafy, and his
thoughts always religioufly pure • but who is
there that, to ib much piety and innocence,

does

284 WATTS.

does not wifh for a greater meafure of fjprite-
linefs and vigour ? He is at leaf! one of the
few poets with vvhom youth and ignorance
may be fafely pleafed ; and happy will be
that reader whofe mind is difpoied by his
verfes, or his profe, to imitate him in all but
his non-conformity, to copy his benevolence
to man, and his reverence to God.

A, PHILIPS,

A. PHILIPS.

OF the birth or early part of the life of
AMBROSE PHILIPS I have not been
able to find any account. His academical
education he received at St. John's College in
Cambridge, where he firft folicited the notice
cf the world by fome Englifh verfes, in the
Collection published by the Univerfity on the
death of queen Mary.

From this time how he was employed, or
in what itation he parTed his life, is not yet
difcovered. He mutt have published his Paf-
torals before the year 1708, becaufe they are
evidently prior to thofe of Pope.

i He

286 A. P H I L I P S.

He afterwards (1709) addreffed to the
univerfal patron, the duke of Dorfet, a poeti-
cal Letter from Copenhagen, which was pub-
liflied in the Jailer, and is by Pope in one
of hisrnrt Letters mentioned with high praifc,
as the production of a man who could write
very nobly.

Philips was a zealous Whig, and therefore
eafily found accefs to Addifon and Steele ; but
his ardour feems not to have procured him
any thing more than kind words ; fmce he
was reduced to tranflate the Perfian Tales for
Tonfon, for which he was afterwards re-
proached, with this addition of contempt,
that he worked for half-a-crown. The book
is divided into many fecticns, for each of
which if he received half-a-cfown, his re-
ward, as writers then were paid, was very
liberal; but half-a-crown had a mean found.

He was employed in promoting the prin-
ciples of his party, by epitomiiing Hacket's
Life of Arcbbijhop Williams. The original
book is written with fuch depravity of geni-
us, fuch mixture of the fop and pedant, as

has

A. PHILIP S.

has not often appeared. The Epitome is free
enough from -aife6tation, but has little fpirit
or vigour.

In 1712 he brought upon the ft age The
Dijireji Mother, almoft a t ran flat ion of Ra-
cine's Andromaque. Such a work requires no
uncommon powers ; but the friends of Philips
exerted every art to promote his intereft.
Before the appearance of the play a whole
Spetfafor, none indeed of the beft, was de-
voted to its praife ; while it yet continued to
be acled, another Spectator was written, to
tell what impremon it made upon Sir Roger;
and on the firft night a feledt audience,
fays Pope*, was called together to ap-
plaud it.

It was concluded with the moft fuccefsful
Epilogue that was ever yet ipoken on the
Englifh theatre. The three firft nights it
was recited twice; and not only continued to
be demanded through the run, as it is term-
ed, of the play, but whenever it is recalled
to the ftage, where by peculiar fortune,

* Spence.

though

288 A. PHILIPS,

though a copy from the French, it yet keeps
its place, the Epilogue is Hill expected, and is
.ilill fpoken.

The propriety of epilogues in general, and
confequently of this, was queftioned by a
correspondent of the Spectator, whole Letter
was undoubtedly admitted for the fake of
the Anfwer, which foon followed, written,
with much zeal and acrimony. The attack
and the defence equally contributed to fdmu-
late curiofity and continue attention. It may
be difcovered in the defence, that Prior's Epi-
logue to Phccdra had a little excited jealoufy ;
and foinething of Prior's plan may be difco-
vered in the performance of his rival.

Of this diflinguiihed Epilogue the reputed
author was the wretched Buclgel, whom Ad-
tlifon ufed to denominate* the man who calls
me coiifi-n j and when he was afked how fuch
a filly fellow could write fo well, replied,
The Epilogue was quite another thing when I
Ji:-iu itjirjl. It was known in Tonfon's fami-
ly, and told to Garrick, that Addifon was

* Spence,

himfelf

A, PHILIP S. 289

himfelf the author of it, and that when it
had been at firft printed with his name, he
came early in the morning, before the copies
were diftributedj and ordered it to be given
to Budgel, that it might add weight to the
folicitation wjiich he was then making for
a place.

Philips was now high in the ranks of lite-
rature. His play was applauded; his tranfla-
tions from Sappho had been published in the
Spectator ; he was an important and diflin-
guifhed afTociate of clubs witty and poli-
tical ; and nothing was wanting to his hap-
pinefs, but that he mould be fure of its con-
tinuance.

The work which had procured him the
firft notice from the publick was his Six
Paftorals, which, flattering the imagination
with Arcadian fcenes, probably found many
readers, and might have long palled as a
pleafing amufemerit, had they not been un-
happily too much commended*

The ruftic Poems of Theocritus were fo

highly valued by the Greeks and Romans,

VOL. IV. U that

29o A. PHILIP S,

that they attracted the imitation of Virgil,
whofe Eclogues feem to have been confider-
ed as precluding all attempts of the fame
kind ; for no fhepherds were taught to fing
by any fucceeding poet, till Nemelian and
Calphurnius ventured their feeble efforts in
the lower age of Latin literature.

At the revival of learning in Italy, it was
foon difcovered that a dialogue of imaginary
fwains might be compofed with little diffi-
culty; becaufe the converfation' of fhepherds
excludes profound or refined fentiment $
and, for images and delcriptions, Satyrs and
Fauns, and Naiads and Dryads, were always
within call ; and woods and meadows, and
hills and rivers, fupplied variety of matter;
which, having a natural power to footh the
mind, did not quickly cloy it.

Petrarch entertainea the learned men of
his age with the novelty of modern Pafhorals-
in Latin. Being not ignorant of Greek, and
finding nothing in the word Eclogue of rural
meaning, he fuppofed it to be corrupted by
the copiers, and therefore called his own pro-
ductions l&glognes, by which he meant to ex-

prefs

A. P H I L I P S. 29i

prefs the talk of goatherds, though it will
mean only the talk of goats. This new name
was adopted by fubfequent writers, and
amongft others by our Spenfer.

More than a century afterwards (1498)
Mantuan published his Bucolicks with fuch
fuccefs, that they were foon dignified by Ba-
dius with a comment, and, as Scaliger com-
plained, received into fchools, and taught as
claffical j his complaint was vain, and the
practice, however injudicious, fpread far and
continued long. Mantuan was read, at
leaft in fome of the inferior fchools of this
kingdom, to the beginning of the prefent
century. The fpeakers of Mantuan carried
their difquifitions beyond the country, to
cenfure the corruptions of the Church ; and
from him Spenfer learned to employ his
fwains on topicks of controverfy.

The Italians foon transferred Paftoral
Poetry into their own language : Sannazaro
wrote Arcadia in profe and verfe -, TafTb and
Guarini wrote Favole Rofcharecciey or Syl-
van Dramas ; and all nations of Europe filled

U 2 volumes

;.92 A. PHILIPS.

volumes with Thyrfts zn&Damon, m&Theftylis
and Phyllis.

Philips thinks itfomewhat fir ange to conceive
hoWj in an age fo addicted to the Mufes, Pajio~
ral Poetry never comes to be fo much as thought
upon. His wonder Teems very unfeafonable j
there had never, from the time of Spenfer,
wanted writers to talk occaiionally of Arcadia
and Strephon -, and half the book, in which he
firft tried his powers, confifls of dialogues on
queen Mary's death, between Tityrus and
Corydon, or Mofjits and Menalcas. A feries
or book of Paftorals, however, I know not
that any one had tl ^n lately published.

Not long afterwards Pope made the firfl
difplay of his pov/crs in four Paflorals, writ-
ten in a very different form. Philips had
taken Spenfer,, and Pope took Virgil for his
pattern. Philips endeavoured to be natural,
Pope laboured to be elegant.

Philips was now favoured by Addifon, and
T}y - Addilbn's companions, who were very
Sviiling to puili him into reputation. The

Guardian

A. P H I L I P S. 293

Guardian gave an account of Paftoral, partly
critical, and partly hiflorical; in which,
when the merit of the moderns is compared,
TafTo and Guarini are cenfured for remote
thoughts and unnatural refinements j and,
upon the whole, the Italians and French are
all excluded from rural poetry, and the pipe
of the Paftoral Mufe is tranfmitted by law-
ful inheritance from Theocritus to Virgil,
from Virgil to Spenfer, and from Spenfer to
Philips.

With this inauguration of Philips, his rival
Pope was not much delighted 3 he therefore
drew a comparifon of Philips's performance
with his own, in which, with an unexampled
and unequalled artifice of irony, though he
has himfelf always the advantage, he gives the
preference to Philips . The delign of aggran-
difing himfelf he difguifea with iuch dexteri-
ty, that, though Addifon difeovered it, Steele
was deceived, and was afraid of difpleafing
Pope by publiming his paper. Published
however it was (Guard. 40), and from that
time Pope and Philips lived in a perpetual
reciprocation of malevolence,

U 3 In

294 A. P H I L I P S.

In poetical powers, of either praife or
fatire, there was no proportion between the
combatants ; but Philips, though he could
not prevail by wit, hoped to hurt Pope with
another weapon, and charged him, as Pope
thought, with Addifon's approbation, as dif-
afFected to the government.

Even with this he was not fatisfied ; for,
indeed, there is no appearance that any re-
gard was paid to his clamours. He pro-
ceeded to grofTer infults, and hung up a rod
at Button's, with which he threatened to
chaftife Pope, who appears to have been ex-
tremely exafperated • for in the firft edition
of his Letters he calls Philips rafca/, and in
the laft ftill charges him with detaining in
his hands the fubfcriptions for Homer delir
vered to him by the Hanover Club.

I fuppofe it was never fufpedted that he
meant to appropriate the money j he only
delayed, and with fufficient meannefs, the
gratification of him by whofe profperity he
was pained,

Men'

A, PHILIPS. 295

Men fometimes fuffer by injudicious kind-
nefs j Philips became ridiculous, without his
own fault, by the abfurd admiration of his
friends, who decorated him with honorary
garlands which the firfl breath of contradic-
tion blafted.

When upon the fucceflion of the Houfe of
Hanover every Whig expected to be happy,
Philips feems to have obtained too little no-
tice ; he . caught few drops of the golden
fhower, though he did not omit what flattery
could perform. He was only made a Com-
rmfiioner of the Lottery, (1717), and, what
did not much elevate his character, a Juftice
of the -Peace.

The fuccefs of his firft play muft naturally
difpofe him to turn his hopes towards the
fbure: he did not however foon commit him*

felf to the mercy of an audience* but content-
ed himfelf with the fame already £•: quired,
till after nine years he produced (1721) ^be
Briton, a tragedy which, whatever was, its
reception, is now neglected ; though one of
the fcenes, between Vanoc the Britifli Prince

U 4 and

296 A. P H I L I P S.

and Valens the Roman General, is confefled
to be written with great dramatick {kill, ani-
mated by fpirit truly poetical.

He had not been idle. though he had been
filent ; for he exhibited another tragedy the
fame year, on the ftory of Humphry Duke of
Gloucejler. This tragedy is only remembered
by its title.

His happieft undertaking was of a paper
called 1'fre Freethinker, in conjunction with
afibciates, of whom one was Dr. Boulter, who,
then only minifter of a parim in South wark,
was of io much confcquence to the govern-
ment, that he was made firft bifhop of Briftol,
and afterwards primate of Ireland, where his
piety and his charity will be long honoured.

v L

It may eafily be imagined that what was
printed under the direction of Boulter, would
have nothing in it indecent or licentious ; its
t,.ie is to be underflood as implying only free-
dom from unreafonable prejudice. It has
been repiv.-.d in Volumes, but is little read ;

nor can imoartid criticifm recommend it as
i

worthy of revival.

Boulter

A. PHILIPS. 297

Boulter was not well qualified to write di-
urnal eflays ; but he knew how to practife
the liberality of greatnefs and the fidelity of
friendihip. When he was advanced to the
height of eccleiiaftical dignity, he did not
forget the companion of his labours. Know-?
ing Philips to be flenderly fupported, he took
him to Ireland, as partaker of his fortune ;
and, making him his fecretary, added fuch
preferments, as enabled him to reprefent the
county of Armagh in the Irim Parliament.

In December 1726 he was made fecretary
to the Lord Chancellor; and in Auguft 1733
became judge of the Prerogative Court.

After the death of his patron he continued
fome years in Ireland; but at laft longing, as
it feems, for his native country, he returned
(1748) to London, having doubtlefs furvived
moft of his friends and enemies, and among
them his dreaded antagonift Pope. He found
however the duke of Newcaftle flill living,
and to him he dedicated his poems collected
into a volume.

Jlaving

A. ? H I L I ? S.

Having purchafed an annuity of four hun-»
dred pounds, he now certainly hoped to pafs
fome years of life in plenty and tranquillity ;
but his hope deceived him : he was ilruck
with a palfy, and died June *S, 1749, in his
feventy-eighth year,

Of his perfonal character all that I have
heard is, that he was eminent for bravery and
/kill in the fword, and that in converfation
he was folemn and pompous. He had great
ifenfibjlity of cenfure, if judgement maybe
made by a fingle flory which I heard long ago
from Mr. Ing, a gentleman of great eminence
jri Staffordshire. " Philips," faid he, " was
" once at table, when I afked him, How came
" thy king of Epirus to drive oxen, and to
" fay I'm goaded on by love ? After which
<£ queftion he never fpoke again/'

Of the Dijtreft Mother not much is pre-
tended to be his own, and therefore it is no
fubject of criticifm : his other two tragedies,
I believe, are not below mediocrity, nor above
it. Among the Poems comprifed in the late
collection, the Letter from Denmark may be
juftly praifed; the Pailorals, which by the

writer

A. P H I L I P S. 299

writer of the Guardian were ranked as one of
the four genuine productions of the ruftick
Mufe, cannot furely be defpicable. That they
exhibit a mode of life which does not exift,
nor ever exifled, is not to be objected ; thefup-
poiiiion of fuch a ftate is allowed to Paftoral.
In his other poems he cannot be denied the
praife of lines fometimes elegant ; but he has
feldom much force, or much comprehenfion.
The pieces that pleafe beft are thofe which,
from Pope and Pope's adherents, procured
him the name of Namby Pamby, the poems
of fhort lines, by which he paid his court to
all ages and characters, from Walpole the
Jleerer of the realm, to mifs Pulteney in the
nurfery. The numbers are fmooth and fpritely,
and the diction is feldom faulty. They are
not loaded with much thought, yet if they
had been written by Addifon they would have
had admirers : little things are not valued but
when they are done by thofe who cannot do
reater.

In his tranflations from Pindar he found
the art of reaching all the obfcurity of the
Theban bard, however he may fall below his

fublimity ;

300 A. P H I L I P S.

fublimity ; he will be allowed, if he has
•fire, to have more fmoke.

He has added nothing to Englifh poetry,
yet at leaft half his book deferves to be read :
perhaps he valued mofl himfelf that part,
which the critick would reject.

WEST.

t 301 1

WEST.

I L BERT WEST is one of the

writers of whom I regret my inability
to give a fufficient account ; the intelligence
which my enquiries have obtained is general
and fcanty.

He was the fon of the reverend Dr. Weft «
perhaps him who publifhed Pindar at Oxford
about the beginning of this century. His
mother was fifter to Sir Richard Temple, af-
terwards lord Cobham. His father, pur-*
pofmg to educate him for the Church, fent
him firft to Eton, and afterwards to Oxford ;
but he was feduced to a more airy mode of
life, by a commimon in a troop of horfe pro-
cured him by his uncle.

302 WES T.

He continued fome time in the army*
though it is reafonable to fuppofe that he ne-
ver funk into a mere foldier, nor ever loft the
love or much neglected the purfuit of learn-
ing ; and afterwards, finding himfelf more
inclined to civil employment, he laid down
his coinmirlionj and engaged in buiinefs un-
der the lord Townfhend, then fecretary of
ftate, with whom he attended the king to
Hanover*

His adherence to lord Townfliend ended
in nothing but a nomination (May 1729) to
be clerk-extraordinary of the Privy Council,
which produced no immediate profit j for it
6nly placed him in a ftate of expectation and
right of fucceffion, and it was very long be-
fore a vacancy admitted him to profit*

Soon afterwards he married, and fettled
himfelf in a very pleafant houfe at Wickham.
in Kent, where he devoted himfelf to learn*
ing, and to piety. Of his learning the late
Collection exhibits evidence, which would
have been yet fuller if the differtations which
accompany his verfion of Pindar had not

been

WEST. $03

been improperly omitted. Of his piety the
influence has, I hope, been extended far by
his Obfervations on tbeRefurretfion, publifhed
in 1747* for which the Univerfity of Oxford
created him a Doctor of Laws by diploma
(March 30, 1748) and would doubtlefs have
reached yet further had he lived to complete
what he had for fome time meditated, the
Evidences of the truth of the New Tefta-
ment. Perhaps it may not be without effect
to tell, that he read the prayers of the pub-
lick liturgy every morning to his family, and
that on Sunday evening he called his fervants
into the parlour, and read to them firft a
fermon, and then prayers. Crafhaw is now
not the only maker of verfes to whom may
be given the two venerable names of Poet

and Saint.

He was very often vifited by Lytteltort and
Pitt, who, when they were weary of faction
and debates, ufed at Wickham to find books
and quiet, a decent table, and literary con-*
verfation. There is at Wickham a walk
made by Pitt ; and, what is of far more im-
portance, at Wickham Lyttelton received that

conviction

304 WEST.

convidlion which produced his Differ
vn St. PauL

Thefe t\vo illuflrious friends had for a
while liilened to the blandifhments of infi-
delity, and when Weft's bpok was published,
it was bought by fome who did not know
his change of opinion, in expectation of new
objections againfl Chriftianity ; and as Infi-
dels do not want malignity, they revenged
the difappointment by \ calling him a me-
thodift.

Mr. Weil's income was not large; and his
friends^ endeavoured, but without fuccefs, to
obtain an augmentation. It is reported, that
the education of the young prince was of-
fered to him, but that he required a more
exteniive power of fuperintendence than it
was thought proper to allow him.

In time, however, his revenue was im-
proved ; he lived to have one of the lucrative
clerkfhips of the Privy Council (1752), and
Mr. Pitt at laft had it in his power to make
him treafurer of Chelfea Hofpital.

WEST. 3o"5

He was now fufficiently rich -, but wealth
tame too late to be long enjoyed : nor could
it fecure him from the calamities of life ; he
loft (1755) his only fon ; and the year after
(March 26), a flroke of the palfy brought
Co the grave one of the few poets to whom
the grave might be without its terrors.

Of his tranflations I have only compared
the fir ft Olympick Ode with the original, and
found my expectation furpafied, both by its
elegance and its exactnefs. He does not con-
fiue himfelf to his author's train of flanzas ;
for he faw that the difference of the lan-
guages required a different mode of verifica-
tion. The firfl ftrophe is eminently happy;
in the fecond he has a little Grayed from
Pindar's meaning, who fays, ifthou, my foul 9
wijbeft to f peak of games y look not in the defer t
jkyfor a planet hotter than thej'uny nor fJjall we
tell of nobler games than thofe of Olympic* . He
is forhetimes too paraphraltical. Pindar be-
flows upon Hiero an epithet, which, 'in one
word, fignifies delighting in horfes -, a word
which, in the tranfiation, generates thefe
lines :

VOL. IV. X Hiero's

306 W E S T-

Hiero's royal brows, whofe care

Tends the courfer's noble breed,
Pleas'd to nurfe the pregnant mare,

Pleas'd to train the youthful fteed.

Pindar fays of Pelops, that he came alone in
the dark to the White Sea -, and Weft,

Near the billow-beaten fide
Of the foam-befilver'd main,
Darkling, and alone, he flood :

which however is lefs exuberant than the
former paflage.

A work of this kind muft, in a minute ex-
amination, difcover many imperfections -y but
Weft's verfion, fo far as I have coniidered it,
appears to be the product of great labour and
great abilities.

His Inftltuflon of the Garter (1742) is
written with fumcient knowledge of the
manners that prevailed in the age to which
it is referred, and with great elegance of
diction ; but, for want of a procefs of events^
neither knowledge nor elegance prefevve the
reader from wearinefs.

Plis

WEST. 307

His Imitations of Spenfer are very fuccefs-
fully performed, both with refpedt to the
metre, the language, and the fiction ; and
being engaged at once by the excellence of
the fentiments, and the artifice of the copy,
the mind has two amufements together. But
fuch compolitions are not to be reckoned
among the great atchievements of intellect,
becaufe their effect is local and temporary ;
they appeal not to reafon or paffion, but to
memory, and pre-fuppofe an accidental or
artificial ftate of mind. An Imitation of
Spenfer is nothing to a reader, however acute,
by whom Spenfer has never been perufed.
Works of this kind may deferve praife, as
proofs of great induftry, and great nicety of
obfervation; but the higheft praife, the praife
of genius, they cannot claim. The noblefh
beauties of art are thofe of which the effecl:
is co-extended with rational nature, or at lead
with the whole circle of polifhed life ; what
is lefs than this can be only pretty, the play-
thing of fafhion, and the amufement cf a day.

THERE is in the Adventurer a paper of
verfes given to one of the authors as Mr.

X 2 Weft's,

•308 WES T,

vJ • f

Weil's, and fuppofed to have been written
by him. It mould not be concealed, how-
ever, that it is printed with Mr. Jago's name
in Dodiley's Collection,, and is mentioned
as his in a Letter of Shenftone's. Perhaps
Weft gave it without naming the author -,
and Hawkefworth, receiving it from him,
thought it his ; for his he thought it, as he
told me, and as he tells the publick.

COLLINS.

[ 3°9 1

COLLINS.

TT T1LLIAM COLLINS was born at
VV Chicherter on the twenty-fifth of
December, about 1720. His father was a
hatter of good reputation. He was in 1733,
as Dr. Warton has kindly informed me, ad-
mitted fcholar of Winchester College, where
he was educated by Dr. Burton. His Engliih
exercifes were better than his Latin.

He firft courted the notice of the publick
by fome verfes to a Lady weeping, published
in The Gentleman s Magazine.

- In 1740, he ftood firft in the lift of the
fcholars to be received in fucceilicn at New

X 3 College |

3io C O L Z, I N S,

College; but unhappily there was no va-
cancy. This was the original misfortune of
his life. He became a Commoner of Queen's
College, probably with a fcanty maintenance;
but was in about half a year elected a Demy
of Magdalen College, where he continued
till he had taken a Bachelor's degree, and then
fuddenly left the Univerfity ; for what reafon
I know not that he told.

He now (about 1744) came to London
a literary adventurer, with many projects in
his head, and very little money in his pocket.
He defigned many works ; but his great fault
was irrefolution, or the frequent calls of im-
mediate neceffity broke his fchemes, and fuf-
fered him to purfue no fettled purpofe. A
man, doubtful of his dinner, or trembling
at a creditor, is not much difpofed to ab-
jftra6led meditation, or remote enquiries.
He publifhed propofals for a Hiftory of the
Revival of Learning ; and I have heard him
fpeak with great kindnefs of Leo the Tenth,
and with keen refentment of his taftelefs fuc-
cefTor. But probably not a page of the
Hiftory was ever written. He planned fe-
yeral tragedies, but he only planned them.

COLLINS. 311

He wrote now-and-then odes and other
poems, and did fomething, however little.

About this time I fell into his company.
His appearance was decent and manly ; his
knowledge conliderable, his views extenfive,
his converfation elegant, and his difpofitioii
chearful. By degrees I gained his confidence;
and one day was admitted to him when he
was immured by a bailiff, that was prowling
in the ftreet. On this occafion recourfe was
had to the bookfellers, who, on the credit of
a tranflation of Ariftotle's Poeticks, which
he engaged to write with a large commen-
tary, advanced as much money as enabled
him to efcape into the country. He mewed
me the guineas fafe in his hand. Soon af-
terwards his uncle, Mr. Martin, a lieutenant-
colonel, left him about two thoufand pounds;
a fum which Collins could fcarcely think ex-
haullible, and which he did not live to ex-
hauft. The guineas were then repaid, and
the tranflation neglexfted.

But man is not born for hnppinefs, Col-
lins, who, while he ftudied to live, felt no
evil but poverty, no fooner Ihed [ojludy than

X 4 his

3i2 COLLINS.

his life T/CIS alii ailed bv more dreadful cnlami->

tie?, difeafe and infinity.

' **

Raving formerly written his character,
while perhaps it was yet more diilinctly
impreffeci upon my memory, I ihall infert it
here.

" Mr. Collins was a man of cxtenfive li-
terature, and of vigorous faculties. He was
acquainted not only with the learned tongues,
but with the Italian, French, and Spanifh
languages. He had employed his mind
chiefly upon works of fiction, and fubjects of
fancy 5 and, by indulging fome peculiar habits
of thought, was eminently delighted with
thole ilights of imagination which pafs the
bounds of nature, and to which the mind is
reconciled only by a paffive acquiefcence in
popular traditions. He loved fairies, genii,
giants, and monfcers ; he delighted to rove
through the meanders of inchantment, to
gaze on the magnificence of golden palaces, to
repofe by the water-falls of Elyiian gardens.

'* This was hov/ever the character rather

cf his inclination than his irernus ; the gran-

*-j f.

deur

COLLINS. 313

deur of wildnefs, and the novelty of extra-
vagance, were always de fired by him, but
were not always attained. Yet as diligence
is never wholly loft ; if his efforts fometimcs
caulcd harihnefs and obfcurity, they likewise
produced in happier moments lublimity and
fplendour. This idea which he had formed
of excellence, led him to oriental fictions
and allegorical imagery; and perhaps, while
he was intent upon defcription, he did not
fufficiently cultivate fentiment. His poems
are the productions of a mind not deficient
in fire, nor unfurniihed with knowledge
either of books or life, but fomewhat ob-
ftructed in its progrefs by deviation in quell
of miftaken beauties.

" His morals were pure, and his opinions
pious : in a long continuance of poverty,
and long habits of diilipation, it cannot be
expecled that any character mould be exact-
ly uniform. There is a degree of want by
which the freedom of agency is almoft de-
ftroyed ; and long affociation with fortuitous
companions will at laft relax the flrictnefs of
truth, and abate the fervour of fmcerity.
That this man, wife and virtuous as he was,

parled

3i4 COLLINS.

palTed always unentangled through the fnares
of life, it would be prejudice and temerity to
affirm ; but it may be faid that at lean: he
preferved the fource of action unpolluted,
that his principles were never maken, that
his distinctions of right and wrong were
never confounded, and that his faults had
nothing of malignity or deiign, but proceed-
ed from fome unexpected preiTure, or cafual
temptation.

" The latter part of his life cannot be re-
membered but with pity and fadnefs. He
languiihed fome years under that depreflion
of mind which enchains the faculties with-
out deflroying them, and leaves reafon the
knowledge of tight without the power of
purfuing it. Thefe clouds which he per-
ceived gathering on his intellects, he en^
deavoured to difperfe by travel, and parTed
, into France ; but found himfelf conilrained
to yield to his malady, and returned. He
was for fome time confined in a houfe of luna-
ticks, and afterwards retired to the care of
his lifter in Chichefter, where death in 1756
came to his relief,

" After

COLLINS. 315

" After his return from France, the wri-,
ter of this character paid him a viiit at
Illington, where he was waiting for his fifter,
whom he had directed to meet him : there
was then nothing of diforder difcernible in
his mind by any but himfelf; but he had
withdrawn from ftudy, and travelled with
no other book than an Englim Teftament,
fuch as children carry to the fchool : when
his friend took it into his hand, out of cu-
riofity to fee what companion a Man of Let-T-
iers had chofen, / have but one book, faid
Collins, but that is the heft"

Such was the fate of Collins, with whom
I once delighted to converfe, and whom I yet
remember with tendernefs.

He was vifited at Chichefter, in his laft ill-
nefs, by his learned friends Dr. Warton and
his brother ; to whom he fpoke with difap-
probation of his Oriental Eclogues, as not
furiicientiy expreffive of Afiatick manners,
and called them his Iriih Eclogues. He
mewed them, at the fame time, an ode in-
fcribed to Mr. John Hume, on the fuper-

ftitions

316 COLLINS.

flitions of the Highlands ; wliich they thought
fuperior to his other works, but which no
fearch has yet found.

His diforder v/as not alienation of mind,
but general laxity and feeblenefs, a deficiency
rather of his vital than intellectual powers.
What he fpoke wanted neither judgement
nor fpirit j but a few minutes exhaufted him,
fo that he was forced to red upon the couch,
till a iliort ceilation reftored his powers, and
he was a<?ain able to talk with his former

vigour.

The approaches of this dreadful malady
he began to feel foon after his uncle's death ;
and, with the ufual weaknefs of men fo dif-
eafed, eagerly matched that temporary relief
with which the table and the bottle flatter
-and feduce. But his health continually de-
clined, and he grew more and more burthen-
fome to hinifelf.

To what I have formerly faid of his writ-
ings may be added, that his diction was often
harm, unfkilfuily laboured, and injudicioufly
{elected. He affected the obfolete when it

was

COLLINS. 717

**j t

was not worthy of revival ; and he puts his
words out of the common order, feeming to
think, with fome later candidates for fame,
that not to write profe is certainly to write
poetry. His lines commonly are of ilow mo-
tion, clogged and impeded with clufters of
confonants. As men are often efteemed who
oAnnol be loved, fo the poetry of Collins may
fometimes extort praiie when it gives little
plea lure.

Mr. Collins's firil: production is added
here from th~ Poetical Calendar :

TO MISS AURELIA C R,

ON HER WEEPING AT HER SISTER'S WEDDING,

Ceaie, fair Aurelia, ceaie to mourn \
Lament not Hannah's happy (late ;

You may be happy in your turn,
And icize the treafure you' regret.

With Love united Hymen flands,
And ibftly whifpers to your charms ;

tc Meet but your lover in my bands,
" You'll find your filler in his arras."

DYER.

TOHN DYER, of whom I have no •)
«J other account to give than his own Let-
ters, publiihed with Hughes's correfpon-
dence, and the notes added hy the editor,
have afforded me, was born in 1700, the
iecond fon of Robert Dyer of Aberglaihey,
in Caermarthenihire, a folicitor of great ca-
pacity and note.

He paffed through Weftminfter-fchool un-
der the care of Dr. Freind, and was then
called home to be inftrudted in his father's
profeffion. But his father died foon, and
he took no delight in the rludy of the law,
but, having always anuifed himfelf with

drawing,

DYER.

3*9

drawing, refolved to turn painter, and became
pupil to Mr. Richardfon, an artift then of
high reputation, but now better known by
his books than by his pictures.

Having ftudied awhile under his mailer,
he became, as he tells his friend, an itinerant
painter, and wandered about South Wales
and the parts adjacent ; but he mingled poe-
try with painting, and about 1727 printed
Grongar Hill in Lewis's Mifcellany.

o j

Being, probably, unfatisfied with his own
proficiency, he, like other painters, travelled
to Italy; and coming back in 1740, publifh-
ed the Ruins of Rome.

If his poem was written foon after his re-
turn, he did not make much ufe of his ac~
quifitions in painting, whatever they might
be; for decline of health, and love of fludy,
determined him to the church. He therefore
entered into orders; and, it feems, married
about the fame time a lady of the name of
\TLnfor \ " whofe grand-mother," fays he,
" was a Shakfpeare, defcended from a brother
" of every bpdy's Shakfpeare/' by her, in

320 D Y E R.

1756, he had a fon and three daughters
living.

His ecclefiaftical provifion was a long time
but ilender. His firft patron, Mr. Harper,
gave him, in 1741? Calthorp in Leicefter-
Ihire of eighty pounds a year, on which he
lived ten years, and then exchanged it for
Belchford in Lincolnshire of feventy-fivei
His condition now began to mend. In 1 75 1 ,
Sir John Heathcote gave him Coningfljy, of
one hundred and forty pounds a year ; and
in 1755 the Chancellor added Kirkby, of
one hundred and ten. He complains that
the repair of the houfe at Coningfby, and
other expences, took away the profit.

In 1757 he publifhed thzFteece, his greatefl
poetical work j of which I will not fupprefs a
ludicrous ftory. Dodiley the bookfeller was
one day mentioning it to a critical vifiter,with
more expectation of fuccefs than the other
could eafily admit. In the conversation the
.author's age was afked ; and being reprefent-
ed as advanced in life, He 'will, faid the cri-
tick, -be burled in woollen.

4 . .

DYER. 321

He did not indeed long furvive that pub-
lication, nor long enjoy the increafe of his
preferments -, for in 1758 he died.

Dyer is not a poet of bulk or dignity fuf-
•A-'jnt to require an elaborate criticifm.
(r, ongar Hill is the happieft of his produc-
tions : it is not indeed very accurately writ-
ten ; but the fcenes which it difplays are fo
plealing, the images which they raiie fo wel-
come to the mind, and the reflections of the
writer fo confonant to the general fenfc or
experience of mankind, that when it is once
read, it will be read again,

fThe idea of the 'Ruins of Rome ftrikes more
but pleafes lefs, and the title raifes greater
expectation than the performance gratifies.
Some paflages, however, are conceived with
the mind of a poet , as when, in the neigh-
bourhood of dilapidating Edifices, he fays,

At dead of night

The hermit oft, 'midft his orifons, hears,
Aghaft, the voice of Time diiparting towers,

Of The Fleece, which never became po-
pular, and is now univerfally neglected, I
VOL, IV. Y can

322 DYE R,

can fay little that is likely to recall it to at-
tention. The woolcomber and the poet ap-
pear to me fuch difcordant natures, that an
attempt to bring them together is to couple
theferpent with the fowl. When Dyer, vvhofe
mind was not unpoetica], has done his ut-
moft, by interesting his reader in our native
commodity, by interfperfing rural imagery,
and incidental digreffions, by cloathing fmall
Images in great words, and by all the writer's
arts of delulion, the meannefs naturally ad-
hering, and the irreverence habitually an-

O 7 *

nexed to trade and manufacture, fink him
under infuperable oppreffion ; and the difguft
which blank verfe, encumbering and encum-
bered, fuperadds to an unpleaiing fubjeft,
foon repels the reader, however willing to be
pleafed.

Let me however honeftly report whatever
:may counterbalance this weight of cenfure.
I have been told that Akenfide, who, upon a
poetical queftion, has a right to be heard,
laid, " That he would regulate his opinion
" of the reigning tafte by the fate of Dyer's
" Fleece-., for, if that were ill received, he
*' mould not think it any longer reafonable
*( to expect fame from excellence."

3 S H E N-

[ 323

S H E N S T O N E.

TY7ILLIAMSHENSTONE,thefoii

VV of Thomas Shenflone and Anne

was born in November 1714, at theLeafowes
in Hales- Owen, one of thofe infulated diflricls
which, in the divifion of the kingdom, was
appended, for fome reafon not now difco-
verable, to a diffont county -, and which,
though furrounded by Warwickfhire and
Worcefterfhire, belongs to Shropfhire, though
perhaps thirty miles diflant from any other
part of it.

He learned to read of an old dame, whom
his poem of the Scbool-mtftrefs has delivered
to pofterity -, and foon received fuch delight

Y 2 from

S H E N S T O N E.

from books, that he was always calling for
freih entertainment, and expected that when
any of the family went to market a new book
mould be brought him, which when it came,^
was in fondnefs carried to bed and laid by
him. It is faid, that when his requeft had
been neglected, his mother wrapped up a
piece of wood of the fame form, and pacified
him for the night.

As he grew older, he went for a while to
the Grammar-fchool in Hales-Owen, and
was placed afterwards with Mr. Crumpton,
an eminent fchocl-rnafter at Solihul, where
he diftinguimed himfelf by the quicknefs of
his progrefs.

When he was young (June 1724) he was*
deprived of his father, and foon after (Auguft
.1726) of his grandfather ; and was, with his
brother, who died afterwards unmarried, left
to the care of his grandmother, who managed
the eftate.

From fchool he was ftnt in 1732 to Pem-
broke-College in Oxford, a fociety which for
half a century has been eminent for Englifh

poetry

SHENSTONE. 325

poetry and elegant literature. Here it ap-
pears that ho found delight and advantage;
lor Ke continued his name in the bock ten
years, though he took no degree. After the
rlril four years he put on the Civilian's gown,
but without {hewing any intention to engage
in the profeffion.

About the time when he went to Oxford,
the death of his grandmother devolved his
affairs to the care of the reverend Mr. Dol-
man of Brome in Staffordshire, whole atten-
tion he always mentioned with gratitude,

At Oxford he employed himfclf upon Eng-
Jiih poetry; and in 1737 published a frnall
Mifcellany, without his name.

He then for a time wandered about, to ac-
quaint himlelf with life ; and was fometimes
at London, fometimes at Bath, or any other
place of publick refort ; but he did not for-
get his poetry. He published in 1740 his
judgement of Hercules ^ addrefled to Mr. Lyt-
telton, whofe intereft he fupported with great
warmth at an ele<£tion : this was two vears

afterwards followed by the Scbool-miftrefs.

Y 3 Mr.

326 S H E N S T O N E.

Mr. Dolman, towhofe care he was indebted
for his eafe and leifure, died in 1745, and the
care of his own fortune now fell upon him.
He tried to eicape it a while, and lived at his
houfe with his tenants, who were diftantly re-
lated ; but, finding that imperfect pcrTeiTion
inconvenient, he took the whole eftate into
his own hands, more to the improvement of
its beauty than the increafe of its produce.

Now was excited his delight in rural plea-
fures, and his ambition of rural elegance : he
began from this time to point his profpects,
to diverfify his furface, to entangle his walks,
and to wind his waters ; which he did with
fuch judgement and fuch fancy, as made his
little domain the envy of the great, and the ad-
miration of the fkilful j a place to be vifited
by travellers, and copied by deiigners. Whe-
ther to plant a walk in undulating curves,
and to place a bench at every turn where
there is an object to catch the view ; to make
water run where it will be heard, and to ftag-
nate where it will be feen -y to leave intervals
where the eye will be pleafed, and to thicken
the plantation where there is fomething to be

hidden,

S H E N S T O N E. 327

hidden, demands any great powers of mind,
I will not enquire ; perhaps a fullen and furly
fpeculator may think fuch performances rather
the fport than the buiinefs of human reafon.
But it muft be at leaft confeiled, that to em-
bellim the form of nature is an innocent
amufement; and Ibme praife muft be allowed
by the mod fupercilious obferver to him, who
does bcft what fuch multitudes are contend-
ing to do well.

This praife was the praife of Shenftone ;
but, like all other modes of felicity, it was
not enjoyed without its abatements. Lyttel-
ton was his neighbour and his rival, whofe
empire, fpacious and opulent, looked with
difdain on the petty State that appeared behind
It. For a while the inhabitants of Hagley
affected to tell their acquaintance of the little
fellow that was trying to make himfelf ad-
mired ; but when by degrees the Leafowes
forced themfelves into notice, they took care
to defeat the curiofity which they could not
fupprefs, by conducting their vilitants per-
verfely to inconvenient points of view, and
introducing them at the wrong end of a walk

o o

lo detect a deception; injuries of which Shen-

Y 4 {lone

328 S H E N S T O N E.

ftone would heavily complain. Where there
is emulation there will be vanity, and where
there is vanity there will be folly.

The pleafure of Shenftone was all in his
eve; he valued what he valued merely for its

' * * J

looks ;.. nothing railed his indignation more
than to aik if there were any rlm.es in his

water.

His houfe was mean, and he did not im-
prove it ; his care was of his grounds. When
he came home from his walks he might find
his floors flooded by a ihower through the
broken roof ; but could fpare no money for
its reparation.

In time his expences brought clamours
about him, that overpowered the lamb's bleat
and the linnet's fong; and his groves were
haunted by beings very different from fawns
and fairies. He fpent his eftate in adorning
it, and his death was probably haftened by
his anxieties. He was a lamp that fpcnt its
pil in bkzirg. It is laid, that if he had lived
a little longer he would have been ailifted by
a peniion : iuch bounty could not have been?

ever

S H E N S T O N E. 329

ever more prop-- ' ly beftowed ; but that it was
ever ulked is not certain ; it is too certain
that it never v.uS enjoyed.

He died at the Leafowes, of a putrid fever,
about five on Friday morning, February n,
1763 ; and was buried by the fide of his bro-
ther in the church-yard of Hales-Owen.

He was never married, though he mi^ht

O O

have obtained the lady, whoever me was, to
whom his P aft oral Ballad was addrelied. He
is reprefented by his friend Dodfley as a man
of gr^at teoderaefs and generoiity, kind to
all that were w^L^i his '-ifluence ; but, if
once offended, not eafily appeafed ; inatten-
tive to economy, and carelefs of his expences;
in his pcrfon larger than the middle fize, with
fomething clumfy in his form ; very negli-
gent of his cloaths, and remarkable for wear-
ing his grey hair in a particular manner ; for
he held that the fafhion was no rule of -drefs,
and that every man was to fuit his appear-
ance to his natural form.

His mind was not very comprehenlive, nor

his curiolity active; he had no value for thofe

4 parts

33o SHENSTONE.

parts of knowledge which he had not him-
felf cultivated.

His life was unftained by any crime ; the
Elegy on Jefle, which has been fuppofed to
relate an unfortunate and criminal amour of
his own, was known by his friends to have
been fuggefted by the ftory of Mifs Godfrey
in Richardfon's Pamela.

What Gray thought of bis character, from
the perufal of his Letters, was this :

" I have read too an octavo volume of*
'* Shenftone's Letters. Poor man ! he was
" always wifhing for money, for fame, and
" other diftinctions -f and his whole philo-
•" fophy confuted in living againft his will in
" retirement, and in a place which his tafte
" had adorned -t but which he only enjoyed
" when people of note came to fee and com-
" mend it : his correfpondence is about no-
" thing elfe but this place and his own
" writings, with two or three neighbouring
'* clergymen, who wrote verfes too."

His poems confift of elegies, odes, and
ballads, humorous fallies, and moral pieces.

His

S H E N S T O N E. 331

His conception of an Elegy he has in his
Preface very judicioufly and difcriminately
explained. It is, according to his account,
the efFufion of a contemplative mind, fome-
times plaintive, and always ferious, and there-
fore fuperior to the- glitter of flight orna-
ments. His ccmpoiitions fuit not ill to this •
defcription. His topicks of praife are the
domeftick virtues, and his thoughts are pure
and fimple ; but, wanting combination, they
want variety. The peace of iolitude, the in-
nocence of inactivity, and the unenvkd fe-
curity of an humble flation, can fill but a
few pages. That of which the effence is
uniformity will be foon defcribed. His Ele-
gies have therefore too much refemblance of
each other.

The lines are fometimes, fuch as Elegy re-
quires, fmooth and eafy ; but to this praife
his claim is not conftant : his diction is often
harm, improper, and affected • his words ill-
coined, or ill-chofen, and his phrafe unfkil-
fully inverted.

The

372 S H E N S T O N E.

w' *J

The Lyrick Poems are almoft all of the
light and airy kind, fuch as trip lightly and
nimbly along, without the load of any weighty
meaning:. From, thefe, however, Rural E/e-

O j ' I

gance has feme right to be excepted. I once
heard it prailed by a very learned lady • and
though the lines are irregular, and the thoughts
diffufed with too much verbofity, yet it can-
not be denied to contain both philofophical
argument and poetical fpirit.

Of the reft I cannot think any excellent •
the Skylark pleafes me bell, which has how-
ever more of the epigram than of the ode.

But the four parts of his P aft oral Ballad
demand particular notice. I cannot but re-
gret that it is pailoral ; an intelligent reader,
acquainted with the fcenes of real life, fickens
at the mention of the crook, the pipe, the
jheep, and the kids, which it is not neceffary
to bring forward to notice, for the poet's
art is felection, and he ought to {hew the
beauties without the grotmefs of the coun-
try life. His ftanza feems to have been
chofen in imitation of Rowe's Defpairtng

S H E N S T O N E. 333

in the firfl part are two paffages, to which
if any mind denies its fympathy, it has no
acquaintance with love or nature :

I priz'd every hour that went by,

Beyond all that had pleas'd me before;

But now they are paft, and I figh,

And I grieve that I priz'd them no more,

When forc'd the fair nymph to forego,

What angnifh I felt in my heart !
Yet I thought — but it might not be fo,

O t*

'Twas with pain that fhe faw me depart.

She gaz'd, as I (lowly withdrew ;

My path I could hardly difcern ;
So fweetly fhe bade me adieu,

I thought that fhe bade me return.

In the fecond this pafiage has its prettinefs,
though it be not equal to the former :

I have found out a gift for my fair ;

I have found where the wood-pigeons breed '
But let me that plunder forbear,

She will fay 'twas a barbarous deed:

For he ne'er could be true, fhe averr'd,
Who could rob a poor bird of its young;

And I lov'd her the more, when I heard
Such tendernefs fall from her tongue.

334 S H E N S T O N E,

In the third he mentions the common-
places of amorous poetry with fome addrefs :

'Tis his with rnock pafiion to glow ;
"Tis his in fmooth tales to unfold,
How her face is as bright as the fnow,

O *

And her bofom, be fure, is as cold :

How the nightingales labour the ftrain,
With the notes of his charmer to vie ;

How they vary their accents in vain,
Repine at her triumphs, and die.

In the fourth I find nothing better than
this natural ftrain of Hope :

Alas ! from the day that we met,
What hope of an end to my woes ?

When I cannot endure to forget
The glance that undid my repofe.

Yet Time may diminifh the pain :

The flower, and the fhrub, and the tree,

Which I -rear'd for her pleafure in vain,
In time may have comfort for me.

His Levities are by their title exempted
from the feverities of criticifm , yet it may

8HENSTONE. 3.35

be remarked, in a few words, that his humour
is fometimes grofs, and feldcm fpritely.

Of the Moral Poems the fir ft is the Choice
of Hercules, fromXenophon. The numbers
are fmooth, the didion elegant, and the
thoughts jurl; 1)ut fomething of vigour per-
haps is ftill to be willied, which it might
have had by brevity and compreffion. Hi*
Fate of Delicacy has an air of gaiety, but not
a very pointed general' moral. His blank
verfes, thofe that can read them may pro-
bably find to be like the blank verfes of his
neighbours. Love and Honour is derived from
the old ballad, Did you not bear of a Spairifo
Lady — I wim it well enough to wiili it were
in rhyme.

The School-mijlrcfsy of which 1 know not
what claim it has to ftand among the Moral
Works, is furely the mo ft pleaiing of Shen-
tlone's performances. The adoption of a
particular ftyle, in light and mort competi-
tions, contributes much to the increafe of
pleafure : we are entertained at once v/itli
two imitations, of nature in the fentiments,
of the original author in the ftyle, and be-
tween

S H E N S T O N E.

tween them the mind is^ kept in perpetual
employment.

The general recommendation of Shenftone
is eafmefs and fimplicity; his general de-
fed is want of comprehenfion and variety.
Had his mind been better ftored with know-
ledge, whether he could have been great, I
know not ; he could certainly have been
agreeable.

Y oUNb

[ 337

YOUNG.

TH E following life was written, at
my requeft, by a gentleman who had
better information than I could eafily have
obtained; and the publick will perhaps wifli
that I had folicited and obtained more fuch
favours from him.

" DEAR SIR,

" In confequence of our different conver-
fations about authentick materials for the
Life of Young, I fend you the following de-
tail. It is not, I confefs, immediately in
the line of my profeflion; but hard indeed is
our fate at the bar, if we may not call a few
hours now-and-then our own.

VOL. IV. Z Of

338 YOUNG.

Of great men fomething muft always be
faid to gratify curiofity. Of the great author
of the Night 'Thoughts much has been told
of which there never could have been proofs j
and little care appears to have been taken to
tell that of which proofs, with little trouble,
might have been procured.

EDWARD YOUNG was born at Up-
ham, near Winchefler, in June 1681. He
was the fon of Edward Young, at that time
Fellow of Winchefter College and Rector of
Upham j who was the fon of Jo. Young of
Woodhay in Berkfhire, ftyled by Wood gen-
tleman. In September 1682 the Poet's father
was collated to the prebend of Gillingham
Minor, in the church of Sarum, by bifhop
Ward. When Ward's faculties were im-
paired by age, his duties were neceffarily
performed by others. We learn from Wood,
that, at a vifitation of Sprat, July the i2thy
1686, the Prebendary preached a Latin fer-
mon, afterwards publimed, with which the
Bifhop was fo pleafed, that he told the
Chapter he was concerned to find the preacher
had one of the worft prebends in their church.
8 Some

YOUNG. 339

Some time after this, in confequence of his
merit and reputation, or of the interefl of
Lord Bradford, to whom, in 1702, he de-
dicated two volumes of fermons, he was ap-
pointed chaplain to King William and Queen
Mary, and preferred to the deanery of Saruiru
Jacob, who wrote in 1720, fays, he was
chaplain and clerk of the clofet to the late
Queen, who honoured him by flanding god-
mother to the Poet. His fellowmip of Win-
chefler he refigned in favour of a Mr. Har-
ris, who married his only daughter. The
Dean died at Sarum, after a fhort illnefs,
in 1705, in the fixty-third year of his age.
On the Sunday after his deceafe Bimop Bur-
net preached at the cathedral, and began his
fermon with faying, " Death has been of
" late walking round us, and making breach
" upon breach upon us, and has now car-
" ried away the head of this body with a
" ftroke; fo that he, whom you faw a week
" ago distributing the holy myfteries, is
tf now laid in the duil. But he flill lives
in the many excellent directions he has
left us, both how to live and how to

" die."

Z 2 Th«

340

YOUNG.

The Dean placed his fon upon the foun-
dation at Winchefter College, where he had
himfelf been educated. At this fchool Edward
Young remained till the election after his
eighteenth birth-day, the period at which
thofe upon the foundation are fuperannuated.
Whether he did not betray his abilities early
in life, or his mafters had not {kill enough
to difcover in their pupil any marks of ge-
nius for which he merited reward, or no va-
cancy at Oxford afforded them an opportuni-
ty to bellow upon him the reward provided
for merit by William of Wykeham; certain
it is, that to an Oxford fellowship our Poet
did not fucceed. By chance, or by choice,
New College does not number among its
Fellows him who wrote the Night thoughts.

On the 1 3th of October, 1703, he was

entered an Independent Member of New Col-

lege, that he might live at little expence in
the Warden's lodgings, who was a particular
friend of his father, till he mould be quali-
fied to fland for a fellowship at All-fouls. In
a few months the warden of New College
died. He then removed to Corpus College.
2 The

YOUNG. 341

The Prefident of this Society, from regard
alfo for his father, invited him thither, in
order to lerTen his academical expences. In
1708, he was nominated to a law fellowfhip
at All-fouls by Archbifhop Tennifon, into
whofe hands it came by devolution. — Such
repeated patronage, while it juftifies Burnet's
praife of the father, reflects credit on the
conduct of the fon. The manner in which
it was exerted feems to prove that the father
did not leave behind him much wealth.

On the 23d of April, 1714, Young took
his degree of Batchelor of Civil Laws, and
his Doctor's degree on the icth of June,
1719.

Soon after he went to Oxford, he difco-
vered, it is laid, an inclination for pupils.
Whether he ever commenced tutor is not
known. None has hitherto boafted to have
received his academical inftruction from the
author of the Night 'Thoughts.

It is certain that his college was proud of
him no lefs as a fcholar than as a poet -, for,
in 1716, when the foundation of the Cod-

Z 3 rington

342 YOUNG.

rington Library was laid, two years after he
had taken his Batchelor's degree, he was ap-
pointed to fpeak the Latin oration. This is
at leail particular for being dedicated in
Englifh To the Ladies of the Codrington Fa-
mily. To thefe Ladies he fays, '* that he was
unavoidably flung into a fingularity, by be-
ing obliged to write an epiftle-dedicatory
void of common-place, and iuch an one as
was never publifhed before by any author
whatever : — that this practice abfolved them
from any obligation of reading what was.
prefented to them ; — and that the bookleller
approved of it, becaufe it would make peo-
ple flare, was abfurd enough, and perfectly
right."

Of this oration there is no appearance in

his own edition of his works j and prefixed

to an edition by Curll and Tonfon, in 1741,

is a letter from Young to Curll, if Curll

may be credited, dated December the pth,

1739, wherein he fays he has not leifure to

review what he formerly wrote, and adds,

" I have not the Epijlle to Lord Lanfdowne .

If you will take my advice, I would have

you omit that, and the oration on Codring-

" ton.

YOUNG. 343

<l ton. I think the collection will fell better
" without them."

There are who relate, that, when firll
Young found himfelf independent, and his
own matter at All-fouls, he was not the
ornament to religion and morality which he
afterwards became.

The authority of his father, indeed, had
ceafed fome time before by his death ; and
Young was certainly not afhamed to be patro-
nized by the infamous Wharton. ButWharton
befriended in Young, perhaps, the poet,
and particularly the tragedian. If virtuous
authors muit be patronized only by virtuous
peers, who mall point them out ?

Yet Pope is faid by Ruffhead to have told
Warburton, that " Young had much of a
fublime genius, though without common
fenfe -y fo that his genius, having no guide,
was perpetually liable to degenerate into bom-
bail:. This made him, pafs a fooIiJJj youth,
the fport of peers and poets: but his having
a very good heart enabled him to fupport
the clerical character when he afTumed it,

Z 4 firft

344 YOUNG.

with decency, and afterwards with ho-

nour.'

€f
ft

They who think ill of Young's morality
in the early part of his life, may perhaps be
wrong ; but Tindal could not err in his opi-
nion of Young's warmth and ability in the
caufe of religion. Tindal ufed to fpend
much of his time at All-fouls. " The other
" boys," faid the atheift, " I can always
anfwer, bepaufe I always know whence
they have their arguments, which I have
f( read an hundred times ; but that fellow
" Young is continually peftering me with
fi 'fomething of his own,"

After all, Tindal and the cenfurers of
Young may be reconcileable. Young might,
for two or three years, have tried that kind
of life, in which his natural principles
ivould not fufFer him to wallow long. If
this were fo, he has left behind him not only
his evidence in favour of virtue, but the
potent teftimony of experience againfl vice.

We mall foon fee that one of his earlieft
productions was more ferious than what

comes

Y O U X" G. 345

comes from the generality of unfledged
poets.

Young perhaps afcribed the good fortune
of Addifon to the Poem to bis Majcjly, pre-
fented, with a copy of verfes, to Somers ;
and hoped that he alfo might foar to wealth
and honours on wines of the fame kind. His

firft poetical flight was when Queen Anne
called up to the Houfe Lords the Ions of
the Earls of Northampton and Aylefoury,
and added, in one day, ten others to the
number of peers. In order to reconcile the
people to one at leaft of the new Lords, he
published in 1712 An Epijlle to tie Right
Honourable George Lord Lanjflowne. In this
compoiition the poet pours out his panegy-
rick with the extravagance of a young man,
who thinks his prefent itock of wealth
will never be exhaiifted.

The poem feerns intended alfo to reconcile
the publick to the late peace. This is en-
deavoured to be done by mewing that men
are (lain in war, and that in peace barvefts
wave, and commerce fivells her fail. If this be
humanity, is it politicks ? Another purpofe.

346 YOUNG.

of this epiftle appears to have been, to pre-
pare the publick for the reception of fome
tragedy of his own. His Lordfhip's pa-
tronage, he fays, will not let him repent his
fafjionfor thejlage-, — and the particular praife
beftowed on Othello and Oroonoko looks
as if fome fuch character as Zanga was
even then in contemplation. The affectionate
mention of the death of his friend Harrifon
of New College, at the clofe of this poem, is
an infhnce of Young's art, which difplayed
itfelf fo wonderfully fome time afterwards
in the Night Thoughts, of making the pub-
lick a party in his private forrow.

Should juftice call upon you to cenfurc
this poem, it ought at leaft to be remembered
that he did not infert it into his works j and
that in the letter to Curll, as we have feen,
he advifes its omiffion. The bookfellers, in
the late Body of Englim Poetry, fliould have
diftinguimed what was deliberately rejected
by the refpective authors. This I mall be
careful to do with regard to Young. " I
" think, fays he, the following pieces in
" four volumes to be the niort excufeable of
" all that I have written 5 and I wifli lefs

" apology

Y; O U N G. 347

** apology was needful for thefe. As there is
f< no recalling what is got abroad, the pieces
(i here repub limed I have revifed and cor-
*' redted, and rendered them as pardonable
" as it was in my power to do."

Shall the gates of repentance be ihut only
againil: literary finners ?

When Addifon publifned Cato in 1713,
Young had the honour of prefixing to it a
recommendatory copy of verfes. This is
one of the pieces which the author of the
Night Thoughts did not republilli.

On the appearance of his Poem on the Laft
Day, Addifon did not return Young's com-
pliment ; but The Englifbman of October 29,
1713, which was probably written by Addi-
fon, fpeaks handfomely of this poem. The
Laft Day wras publiihed foon after the peace.
The vice-chancellor's imprimatur, for it was
firft printed at Oxford, is dated May the
1 9th, 1713. From the Exordium Young
appears to have fpent fome time on the com-
poiition of it. While other bards ix:tb Bri-
tain s herofet their fonts onjire, he draws, he

fays,

348 YOUNG.

fays, a deeper fcene. Marlborough had been
coniidered by Britain as her hero-, but, when
the Laji Day was publifhed, female cabal
had blafted for a time the laurels of Blen-
heim. This ferious poem was fmiihed
by Young as early as 1710, before he
was thirty ; for part of it is printed in the
Tatler. It was infcribed to the Queen, in
a dedication, which, for fome reafon, he
did not admit into his works. It tells her,
that his only title to the great honour he now
does himfelf is the obligation he formerly
received from her royal indulgence.

Of this obligation nothing is now known,
unlefs he alluded to her being his godmother.
He is faid indeed to have been engaged at a
fettled flipend as a writer for the court. In
Swift's " Rhapfody on poetry" are thefe lines,
fpeaking of the court

Whence Gay was banilh'd in difgrace,
Where Pope will never Ihow his face,

"Where Y muft torture his invention

To flatter knaves, or lofe his penflon.

That Y means Young, is clear from

four other lines in the fame poem.

Attend,

YOUNG. 349

Attend, ye Popes and Youngs and Gays,
And tune your harps and ftrew your bays ;
Your panegyrics here provide ;
You cannot err on flattery's fide.

Yet who {hall fay with certainty that
Young was a penfioner ? In all modern pe-
riods of this country, have not the writers
on one fide been regularly called Hirelings,
and on the other Patriots ?

Of the dedication the complexion is clear-
ly political. It fpeaks in the higheft terms
of the late pea^e ; — it gives her Majefty
praife indeed for her victories, but fays that
the author is more pleafed to fee her rife
from this lower world, foaring above the
clouds, pafTing the firil: and fecond heavens,
and leaving the fixed flars behind her ; — nor
will he lofe her there, but keep her Hill in
view through the boundlefs fpaces on the
other fide of Creation, in her journey to-
wards eternal blifs, till he behold the heaven
of heavens open, and angels receiving and
conveying her fr.il! onward from the ilretch
of his imagination, which tires in her pur-
fuit, and falls back again to earth.

The

YOU N G.

The Queen was foon called away from
this lower world, to a place where human
praife or human flattery even lefs general
than this are of little confequence. If Young
thought the dedication contained only the
praife of truth, he mould not have omitted
it in his works. Was he confcious of the
exaggeration of party ? Then he mould not
have written it. The poem itfelf is not
without a glance to politicks, notwithftand-
ing the fubjecl:. The cry that the church
was in danger, had not yet fubfided. The
Laji Day, written by a layman, was much
approved by the miniftry, and their friends.

Before the Queen's death, The Force of
Religion, or Vanquified Love, was fent into
the world. This poem is founded on the
execution of Lady Jane Gray and her huf-
band Lord Guildford in 1554— a ilory chofen
for the fubjecl; of a tragedy by Edmund
Smith, and wrought into a tragedy by Rowe.
The dedication of it to the countefs of Salif-
bury does not appear in his own edition. He
hopes it may be fome excufe for his pre-
fumption that the ftory could not have been

read

tc
t(

YOUNG. 351

read without thoughts of the Countefs of
Salifbury, though it had been dedicated to
another. <s To behold," he proceeds, " a
<( perfon only virtuous, ftirs in us a prudent
" regret j to behold a perfon only amiable to
the fight, warms us with a religious in-
dignation ; but to turn our eyes on a
Countefs of Saliibury, gives us pleafure
and improvement; it works a fort of mi-
t( racle, occafions the biafs of our nature to
" fall off from fin, and makes our very
'* fenfes and affections converts to our reli-
" gion, and promoters of our duty." His
flattery was as ready for the other fex as for
ours, and was at leaft as well adapted.

Auguft the 27th, 1714, Pope writes to
his friend Jervas, that he is juft arrived from
Oxford — that every one is much concerned
for the Queen's death, but that no panegy-
ricks are ready yet for the King. Nothing
like friendship had yet taken place between
Pope and Young ; for, foon after the event
which Pope mentions, Young publifhed a
poem on the Queen's death, and his Ma-
jefty's acceffion to the throne. It is in-
fcribed to Addifon, then fecretary to the

Lords

352 YOUNG.

Lords Juftices. Whatever was the obliga-
tion which he had formerly received from
Anne, the poet appears to aim at fomething
of the fame fort from George. Of the poem
the intention feems to have been, to mew
that he had the fame extravagant ftrain of
praife for a King as for a Queen. To dif-
cover, at the very outfet of a foreigner's
reign, that the Gods blefs his new fubjects
in fuch a King, is fomething more than praife.
Neither was this deemed one of his excufeablt
pieces. We do not find it in his works.

Young's father had been well acquainted
with Lady Anne Wharton, the firil wife of
Thomas Wharton, Efq; afterwards Mar-
quis of Wharton a Lady celebrated for

her poetical talents by Burnet and by Waller.
To the Dean of Sarum's vifitation fermon,
already mentioned, were added fome verfes
" by that excellent poetefs Mrs. Anne
'* Wharton," upon its being tranflated
into Englifh, at the inftance of Waller,
by Atvvood. Wharton, after he became en-
nobled, did not drop the fon of his old
friend. In him, during the fhort time he
lived, Young found a patron, and in his dif-

folute

YOUNG. 353

folute defcendant a friend and a companion.
The Marquis died in April 1715. The be-
ginning of the next year the young Marquis
fet out upon his travels, from which he re-
turned in about a twelvemonth. The be-
ginning of 1717 carried him to Ireland;
where, %s the Biographia, " on the fcore
<< of his extraordinary qualities, he had the
"honour done him of being admitted,
" though under age, to take his feat in the
" Houfe of Lords."

With this unhappy character it is not un-
likely that Young went to Ireland. From
his Letter to Richardfon on Original Com-
pofition, it is clear he was, at fome period
of his life, in that country. " I remem-
" ber," fays he, in that Letter, fpeaking
of Swift, " as I and others were taking
" with him an evening walk, about a mile
" out of Dublin, he ftopt fhort ; we paffed
" on ; but, perceiving he did not follow
" us, I went back, and found him fixed
" as a ftatue, and earneftly gazing upward
" at a noble elm, which in its uppermofl
" branches was much withered and decayed.
" Pointing at it," he faid, " I (hall be like
VOL. IV. A a "that

354 YOUNG.

" that tree, I mall die at top." — Is it not
probable, that this vifit to Ireland was paid
when he had an opportunity of going thi-
ther with his avowed friend and patron ?

From *fbc Englifoman it appears that a
tragedy by Young was in the theatre fo early
as 1713. Yet Bufiris was not brought up-
on Drury-Lane Stage till 1719. It was in-'
fcribed to the Duke of Newcaftle, " becaufe
" the late inftances he had received of his
*' Grace's undeferved and uncommon favour,
" in an affair of fome confequence, foreign
" to the theatre, had taken from him the
" privilege of chufing a patron." The De-
dication he afterwards fupprefled.

Bufiris was followed in the year 1721 by
fhe Revenge. Left at liberty now to chufe
his patron, he dedicated this famous tragedy
to the Duke of Wharton. " Your Grace,"
fays the Dedication, " has been pleafed to
" make yourfelf accefTary to tha following
" fcenes, net only by fuggefting the moft
" beautiful incident in them, but by mak-i
" ing all poffible provifion for the fuccefs
" of the whole."

That

YOUNG,

355

That his Grace mould have fuggefted the
incident to which he alludes, whatever that
incident be, is not unlikely. The laft men-
tal exertion of the fuperannuated young man,
in his quarters at Lerida, in Spain, was fome
fcenes of a tragedy on the ftory of Mary
Queen of Scots.

Dryden dedicated Marriage a la Mode to
Wharton's infamous relation Rochefter ;
whom he acknowledges not only as the de-
fender of his poetry, but as the promoter of
his fortune. Young concludes his addrefs to
Wharton thus — " My prefent fortune is his
" bounty, and my future his care; which I
*' will venture to fay will be always remem-
" bered to his honour, fince he, I know, in-
" tended his generofity as an encouragement
" to merit, though, through his very par-
*' donable partiality to one who bears him
*c fo fmcere a duty and refpect, I happen to
*f receive the benefit of it." That he ever
had fuch a patron as Wharton, Young took
all the pains in his power to conceal from the
world, by excluding this dedication from his
works. He mould have remembered, that

A a 2 he

356 YOUNG.

he at the fame time concealed his obligation
to Wharton for the moft beautiful incident in
what is furely not his lead beautiful compo-
fition. The paflage juft quoted is, in a poem
afterwards addreffed to Walpole, literally
copied :

Be this thy partial fmile from cenfure free;
'Twas meant for merit, though it fell on me.

While Young, who, in his Love of Fame y
complains grievouily how often dedications
iva/b an JEtbiop white, was painting an
amiable Duke of Wharton in perifhable
profe, Pope was perhaps beginning to de-
fcribe the fcorn and wonder of his days in
lailing verfe.

To the patronage of fuch a character, had
Young ftudied men as much as Pope, he
would have known how little to have truft-
ed. Young, however, was certainly indebt-
ed to it for fomething material -y and the
Duke's regard for Young, added to his Liift
of Praife, procured to All-fouls College a
donation, which was riot forgotten by the
poet when he dedicated The Revenge.

YOUNG. 357

It will furprize you to fee me cite fecond
Atkins, Cafe 136, Stiles verfits the Attorney
General, 14 March 1740; as authority for
the Life of a Poet. But Biographers do not
always find fuch certain guides as the oaths
of thole whole lives they write. Chancellor
Hardwicke was to determine whether two an-
nuities, granted by the Duke of Wharton to
Young, were for legal confiderations. One
was dated the 24th of March 1719, and ac-
counted for his Grace's bounty in a ftyle
princely and commendable, if not legal —
" conlidering that the publick good is ad-
" vanced by the encouragement of learning
" and the polite arts, and being pleafed
" therein with the attempts of Dr. Young,
" in coniideration thereof, and of the love
" he bore him, &c." The other was dated
the loth of July, 1722.

Young, on his examination, fwore that
he quitted the Exeter family, and refufed an
annuity of ioo/. which had been offered
him for his life if he would continue tutor
to Lord Burleigh, upon the prefling felici-
tations of the Duke of Wharton, and his

A a 3 Grace's

358 YOUNG.

Grace's affurances of providing for him in
a much more ample manner. It alfo ap-
peared that the Diike had given him a bond
for 6oo/. dated the i5th of March 1721,
in confideration of his taking feveral jour-
m'es, and being at great expences, in order
to be chofen member of the Houfe of Com-
mons at the Duke's defire, and in coniidera-
tion of his not taking two livings of 200 /.
and 400 /. in the gift of All-fouls College,
on his Grace's promifes of ferving and ad-
vancing him in the world.

Of his adventures in the Exeter family
I am unable to give any account. The
attempt to get into Parliament was at
Cirencefter, where Young ftood a contefl-
ed election. His Grace difcovered in him
talents for oratory as well as for poetry. Nor
was this judgment wrong. Young, after he
took orders, became a very popular preacher,
and was much followed for the grace and ani-
mation of his delivery. By his oratorical
talents he was once in his life, according to
the Biographia, deferted. As he was preach-
ing in his turn at St. James's, he plainly
perceived it was out of his power to command
3 the

YOUNG. 359

the attention of his audience. This fo affect-
ed the feelings of the preacher, that he fat
back in the pulpit, and burft into tears. — But
we muft purfue his poetical life.

In 1719 he lamented the death of Addi-
fon, in a Letter addrelTed to their common
friend Tickell. For the fecret hiftory of the
following lines, if they contain any, it is now
vain to feek :

In joy oncsjoin'dy in forrow, now, for years —
Partner in grief, and brother of my tears,
Tickell, accept this verfe, thy mournful due.

From your account of Tickell it appears
that he and Young uied to " communicate
" to each other whatever verfes they wrote,
ft even to the leafl things."

In 1719 appeared a Parapbrafe on Part of
the Book of yob. Parker, to whom it is dedi-
cated, had not long, by means of the feals,
been qualified for a patron. Of this work
the author's opinion may be known from
his Letter to Curll : " You feem, in the Col-
lection you propofe, to have omitted what
I think may claim the firft place in it ,•
I mean a T:r (inflation from Part of yob,
printed by Mr. Tonfon." The Dedica-

A a 4 tion ,

(C
€(

ft
(f

360 Y O U N G.

tion, which was only fuffered to appear in
Tonfon's edition, while it fpeaks with fatis-
faction of his prefent retirement, feems to
make an unufual ftruggle to efcape from re-
tirement. But every one who tings in the
dark does not fing from joy. It is addreffed,
in no common ftrain of flattery, to a Chan-
cellor, of whom he clearly appears to have
had no kind of knowledge.

Of his Satires it would not have been im-
pomble to fix the dates without the affiflance
of firft editions, which, as you had occafion
to obferve in your account of Dryden, are
with difficulty found. We muft then have
referred to the Poems, to difcover when they
were written. For thefe internal notes of
time we mould not have referred in vain.
The firft Satire laments that " Guilt's chief
foe in Addifon is fled." The fecond, ad~
dreffing himfelf, afks,

Is thy ambition fweating for a rhyme,
Thou unambitious fool, at this late time ,?
A fool Sit forty is a fool indeed.

The Satires were originally published fepa-
rately in folio, under the title of The Um-

verfal

Y O U N G. 361

verfal Paffion. Thefe pafTages fix the ap-
pearance of the firft to about 1725, the
time at which it came out. As Young fel-
dom fuffered his pen to dry, after he had
once dipped it in poetry, we may conclude
that he began his Satires foon after he had

written the Paraphrafe on Job. The laft
Satire was certainly finished in the begin-
ning of the year 1726. In December 1725
the King, in his paffage from Helvoet-
fluys, eicaped with great difficulty from a
ftorm by landing at Rye ; and the conclu-
fion of the Satire turns the efcape into a
miracle, in fuch an encomiaftick ftrain of
compliment as poetry too often feeks to pay
to royalty.

From the fixth of thefe poems we learn,

Midft empire's charms, how Carolina's heart
Glow'd with the love of virtue and of art :

fmce the grateful poet tells us in the next
couplet,

Her favour is diffus'd to that degree,
Excefs of goodnefs ! it has dawn'd on me.

Her Majefty had flood godmother and given
her name to a daughter of the Lady whom
Young married in 1731.

The

YOUNG.

The fifth Satire, on Women, was not
limed till 1727; and the fixth not till 1728.

To thefe Poems, when, in 1728, he ga-
thered them into one publication, he pre-
fixed a Preface ; in which he obfervcs, that
" no man can converfe much in the world
" but, at what he meets with, he muft
" either be infenfible or grieve, or be angry
" or fmile. Now to fmile at it, and turn
" it into ridicule," adds he, " I think moft
" eligible, as it hurts ourfelves leaft, and
*' gives vice and folly the greateft offence.
— Laughing at the mifconduct of the
world, will, in a great meafure, eafe us
of any more difagreeable paffion about it.
One paffion is more effectually driven out
by another than by reafon, whatever fome
<( teach." So wrote, and fo of courfe
thought, the lively and witty Satirift at the
grave age of almoft fifty, who, many years
earlier in life, wrote the Loft Day. After
all, Swift pronounced of thefe Satires, that
they mould either have been more angry, or
more merry.

to
it

tt
tt

tc
ft

YOUNG. 363

Is it not fomewhat fingular that Young
preferved, without any palliation, this Pre-
'face, fo bluntly decifive in favour of laugh-
ing at the world, in the fame collection of
his works which contains the mournful,
angry, gloomy Night Thoughts ?

At the conclufion of the Preface he applies
Plato's beautiful fable of the Eirth of Love to
modern poetry, with the addition, " that
" Poetry, like Love, is a little fubject to
" blindnefs, which makes her miftake her
" way to preferments and honours ; and
" that me retains a dutiful admiration of
h-er father's family ; but divides her fa-
vours, and generally lives with her mo-
*' ther's relations." Poetry, it is true, did
not lead Young to preferments or to ho-
nours ; but was there not Something like
blindnefs in the flattery which he fometim.es
forced her, and her filter Profe, to utter ?
She was always, indeed, taught by him to en-
tertain a moft dutiful admiration of riches ;
but furely Young, though nearly related to
Poetry, had no connexion with her whom
Plato makes the mother of Love. That he
could not well complain of being related to

Poverty

364 Y O U N G.

Poverty appears clearly from the frequent
bounties which his gratitude records, and
from the wealth which he left behind him.
By The Univerfal PaJJion he acquired no vul-
gar fortune, more than three thoufand pounds.
A confiderable fum had already been fwal-
lowed up in the South-Sea. For this lofs he
took the vengeance of an author. His Mufe
makes poetical ufe more than once of a
South- Sea Dream.

It is related by Mr. Spence, in his Manu-
fcript Anecdotes, on the authority of Mr.
Rawlmfon, that Young, upon the publica-
tion of his Univerfal PaJJion, received from
the Duke of Grafton two thoufand pounds;
and that, when one of his friends exclaimed,
'Two tbouf and pounds for a poem 7 he faid it
was the beft bargain he ever made in'his life,
for the poem was worth four thoufand.

This flory may be true ; but it feems to
have been raifed from the two anfwers of
Lord Burghley and Sir Philip Sidney in
Spenfer's Life.

After infcribing his Satires, not without
the hope of preferments and honours, to

the

YOUNG. 365

the Duke of Dorfet, Mr. Dodington, Mr.
Spencer Compton, Lady Elizabeth Germain,
and Sir Robert Walpole, he returns to plain
panegyric. In 1726 he addrefTed a poem to
Sir Robert Walpole, of which the title
Sufficiently explains the intention. If
Young was a ready celebrator, he did not
endeavour, or did not choofe, to be a lafting
one. The Injlalment is among the pieces he
did not admit into the number of his cxcufe-
able writings. Yet it contains a couplet which
pretends to pant after the power of beilow-
ing immortality :

Oh how I long, enkindled by the theme,
In deep eternity to launch thy name !

The bounty of the former reign feems to
have been continued, poffibly increafed, in
this. Whatever it was, the poet thought he
deferved it; — for he was not afhamed to ac-
knowledge what, without his acknowledge-
ment, would now perhaps never have been
known :

My bread, O Walpole, glows with grateful fire.
The ftreams of royal bounty, turn'd by thee,
Refrefh the dry domains of poefy.

8 If

366 YOUNG.

If the purity of modern patriotifm term
Young a penfioner, it mufh at leaft be con-
feffed he was a grateful one.

The reign of the new monarch was umef-
ed in by Young with Ocean, an Ode. The
hint of it was taken from the royal fpeech,
which recommended the increafe and en-
couragement of the feamen; that they might
be invited, rather than compelled by force and
violence, to enter Into theferioice of their coun-
try.} — a plan which humanity muft lament
that policy has not even yet been able, or
willing, to carry into execution. Prefixed
to the original publication were an Ode to
the King, Pater Patrice, and an Effay on
Lyrick Poetry. It is but juftice to confefs,
that he prefer ved neither of them ; and that
the ode itfelf, which in the firft edition, and
in the laft, confifts of feventy-three ftanzas,
in the author's own edition is reduced to
forty-nine. Among the omitted paflages is
a Wijh, that concluded the poem, which few-
would have fufpected Young of forming;
and of which few, after having formed it,
would confefs fomething like their fhame by
fuppreflion.

YOUNG. 367

It fcood originally fo high in the author's
opinion, that he intitled the Poem, " Ocean,
" an Ode. Concluding with a Wijh" This
wifh confifts of thirteen ftanzas. The firft
runs thus :

O may \ftealf

Along the vale
Of humble life, fecure from foes !

My friend iincere,

My judgment clear,
And gentle bufmefs my repofe !

The three laft ftanzas are not more remark-
able for juft rhymes; but, altogether, they
will make rather a curious page in the life
of Young.

Prophetic fchemes,

And golden dreams,
May I, unfanguine, caft away !

Have what I have,

And live, not leave,
Enamoured of the prefent day !

My hours my own !

My faults unknown !
My chief revenue in content !

Then leave one beam

Of hone ft fame!
And fcorn the laboured monument!

Unhurt

368 YOUNG.

Unhurt my urn

Till that great turn
When mighty nature's felf fhall die,

Time ceafe to glide,

With human pride,
Sunk in the ocean of eternity !

It is whimfical that he, who was foon to
bid adieu to rhyme, mould fix upon a mea-
fure in which rhyme abounds even to fatiety.
Of this he faid, in his Effay on Lyrick Poetry,
•prefixed to the Poem, — " For the more har-
mony likewife I chofe the frequent return
of rhyme, which laid me under great dif-
" faculties. But difficulties, overcome, give
" grace and pleafure. Nor can I account
" for the pleafure of rhyme in general (of
" which the moderns are too fond) but from
" this truth." Yet the moderns furely de-
fer ve not much cenfure for their fondnefs of
what, by his own confeiTion, affords plea-
fure, and abounds in harmony.

The next paragraph in his ejjay did not
occur to him when he talked of that great
turn in the ftanza juft quoted. " But then
<c the writer muft take care that the diffi.-
" culty is overcome. That is, he muft

tc
a

make

YOUNG* 369

make rhyme confident with as perfect
" fenfc and exprefiion, as could be expected
" if he was perfectly free from that mackle."

Another part of this fa/fay will convict
the following ftartza of, what every reader
will difcover in it, " involuntary burlefque."

The northern blaft,

The fhattered maft,
The fyrt, the whirlpool, and the rock^

The breaking fpout,

The ft ars gone out,
The boiling flreight, the monfter's fhock.

But would the Engljfli poets fill quite fo
many volumes, if all their productions were
to be tried, like this, by an elaborate efTay
on each particular fpecies of poetry of which
rliey exhibit fpecimens ?

If Young be not a Lyric poet, he is at
leaft a critic in that fort of poetry -y and, if
his Lyric poetry can be proved bad, it
was firft proved fo by his own criticifm.
This furely is candid.

Mil bourne was ftyled by Pope the fair eft

of Critics, only becaufe he exhibited his

VOL, IV. Bb own

YOUNG.

own verfion of Virgil to be compared with
Dryden's which he condemned, and with
which every reader had it otherwife in his
power to compare it. Young was furely
not the moft unfair of poets for prefixing
to a Lyric compofition an effay on Lyric
Poetry fojufl and impartial as to condemn
himfelf.

We mall foon come to a work, before
which we find indeed no critical Effay, but
which difdains to fhrink from the touch-
flone of the fevereft critic ; and which cer-
tainly, as I remember to have heard you fay,
if it contains fome of the worft, contains
alfo fome of the bed things in the language.

Soon after the appearance of " Ocean,"
when he was almofl fifty, Young entered
into Orders. In April 1728, not long after
he put on the gown, he was appointed
chaplain to George the Second.

The tragedy of T^he Br other sy which was
already in rehearfal, he immediately with-
drew from the ftage. The managers refign-
ed it with fome reludance to the delicacy of

the

YOUNG. 371

the new clergyman. The Epilogue to *Tbe
Brothers, the only appendage to any of his
three plays which he added himfelf, is, I be-
lieve, the only one of the kind. He calls it
an hijlorical Epilogue. Finding that Guilt's
dreadful clofe his narrow fcene denied, he, in a
manner, continues the tragedy in the Epi-
logue, and relates how Rome revenged the
made of Demetrius, and punifhed Perfeus
for this night's deed.

Of Young's taking Orders fomething is
told by the biographer of Pope, which places
the eafinefs and fimplicity of the poet in a
fingular light. When he determined on the
Church, he did not addrefs himfelf to Sher-
lock, to Atterbury, or to Hare, for the beft
inftrucUons in Theology, but to Pope; who,
in a youthful frolick, advifed the diligent pe-
rufal of Thomas Aquinas. With this treafure
Young retired from interruption to an ob-
fcure place in the fuburbs. His poetical guide
to godlinefs hearing nothing of him during
half a year, and apprehending he might have
carried the jeft too far, fought after him, and
found him juft in time to prevent what Ruff-
head calls an 'rretrievable derangement.

B b 2 That

372

YOUNG.

That attachment to his favourite ftudy
which made him think a poet the furcil
guide in his new profeffion, left him little
doubt whether poetry was the fureft path to
its honours and preferments. Not long in-
deed after he took Orders, he published in
profe, 1728, A true EJllmate of Human Life,
dedicated, notwithstanding the Latin quota-
tions with which it abounds, to the Queen j
and a fermon preached before the Houle of
Commons, 1729, on the martyrdom of King
Charles, intituled, An Apology for Princes, or
the Reverence due to Government. But the
" Second Difcourfe," the counterpart of his
" Estimate," without which it cannot be
called " a true eftimate," though in 1728
it was announced as " foon to be published,"
never appeared ; and his old friends the
Mufes were not forgotten. In 1730 he
relapfed to poetry, and fent into the world
Imp cr him Pelagi-, a Naval Lyric, writ-
ten in Imitation of Pindar s Spirit, occa-
fioned by His Majejlys Return from Han-
over, September 1729, and the fucceeding
Peace. It is infcribed to the Duke of Chan-
In the Preface we are told, that the

Ode

YOUNG. 373

Ode is the moft fpirited kind of Poetry,
and that the Pindaric is the moft fpirited
kind of Ode. " This I fpeak," he adds,
with fufficient candour, " at my own very
" great peril. But truth has an eternal title
" to our confefiion, though we are fure to
" fuffer by it." Behold, again, the fair eft
of poets. Young's Imperium Pelagit as well
as his tragedies, was ridiculed in Field-
ing's Tom Thumb; but, let us not forget
that it was one of his pieces which the
author of the Night Thoughts deliberately re-
fufed to own.

Not long after this Pindaric attempt, he
published two Epiftles to Pope, concerning
the Authors of the Age, 1730. Of thefe
poems one occalion feems to have been an ap-
prehenfion left, from the livelinefs of his
fatires, he mould not be deemed fufficiently
ferious for promotion in the Church,

In July 1730 he was prefented by his Col-
lege to the rectory of Welwyn in Hertford-
fhire. In May 1731 he married Lady Eli-
zabeth Lee, daughter of the Earl of Litch-
field, and widow of Colonel Lee. His con-

B b ?

374 YOUNG.

nexion with this Lady arofe from his father's
acquaintance, already mentioned, with Lady
Anne Wharton, who was coheirefs of Sir
Henry Lee of Ditchley in Oxfordfhire.
Poetry had lately been taught by Addifon to
afpire to the arms of nobility, though not
with extraordinary happinefs.

We may naturally conclude that Young
now gave himfelf up in fome meafure to the
comforts of his new connexion, and to the
expectations of that preferment which he
thought due to his poetical talents, or, at
leaft, to the manner in v/hich they had fo
frequently been exerted.

The next production of his Mufe was The
Sea-piece, in two odes.

Young enjoys the credit of what is called
an Extempore Epigram on Voltaire; who,
when he was in England, ridiculed, in the
company of the jealous Englifh poet, Milton's
allegory of Sin and Death

You are fo witty, profligate, and thin,

At once we think thcc Milton, Death, and Sin.

From

YOUNG. 375

From the following paffage in the poetical
Dedication of his Sea-piece to Voltaire, it
feems that his extemporaneous reproof, if it
muft be extemporaneous, for what few will
now affirm Voltaire to have deferved any re-
proof, was fomething longer than a diftich,
and fomething more gentle than the diftich
juft quoted.

No ftranger, Sir, though born in foreign climes.
On Dorfet downs, when Milton's page,
With Sin and Death provok'd thy rage,

Thy rage provok'd, who footh'd with gentle
rhymes ?

By Dorfet downs he probably meant Mr.
Dodington's feat. In Pitt's Poems is An
Epiftle to Dr. Edward Toung, at Eaftbury in
Dorfetfiire, on the Review at Sarumy 1722.

While with your Dodington retired you lit,
Charm'd with his flowing Burgundy and wit, &c.

Thomfon, in his Autumn, addreffing Mr.
Dodington, calls his feat the feat of the
Mufes,

Where, in the fecret bower and winding walk,
For virtuous Young and thee they twine the bay.

B b 4 The

376 YOUNG.

The praifes Thomfon beftows but a few lines
before on Philips, the fecond

Who nobly durft, in rhyme-unfettered verfes
With Britiih freedom fing the Britifh fongj

added to Thomfon's example and fuccefs,
might perhaps induce Young, as we mall
fee prefently, to write his great work with-
out rhyme.

In 1734 he publimed The foreign Addrefs,
or the bejl Argument for Peace -, occafiomd
by the Britifn Fleet and the Pojlure of Affairs.
Written in the Character of a Saihr. It is
not to be found in the author's four volumes.

He now appears to have given up all hopes
of overtaking Pindar, and perhaps at laft
refolved to turn his ambition to fome original
fpecies of poetry. This poem concludes with
a formal farewel to Ode, which few of
Young's readers will regret :

My fhell which Clio gave, which Kixgs ap
Which Europe's bleeding Genius call'd abroad,
Adieu !

YOUNG. 377

In a fpecies of poetry altogether his own he
next tried his Ikill, and fuccecded.

Of his wife he was deprived in 1741. She
had loft in her life- time, at feventeen years of
age, an amiable daughter, who was jufl mar-
ried to Mr. Temple, fon of Lord Palmerfton.
This was one of her three children by Cc-
lonel Lee. Mr. Temple did not long remain
after his wife*. Mr. and Mrs. Temple have
always been confidered as Philander and Nar-
cifla. If they were, they did not die long be-
fore Lady E. Young. How fuddenly and how"
nearly together the deaths of the three perfons
whom he laments, happened, none who has
read the Night 'Thoughts, and who has not
read them ? needs to be informed.

Infatiate Archer! could not one fuffice ?
TJiy fhaft flew thrice ; and thrice my peace

was (lain ;
And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her

horn.

To the forrow Young felt at his lories we
are indebted for theie poems. There is a

* The Irifh Peerage, if authentic, in the account of
i/ord Palmeruon's family, fomewhat confufes this bufi-
r.sfs i but I take what I have related to be the fa£t.

pleafure

378 YOUNG,

pleafure fure in fadnefs which mourners only
know. Of thefe poems the two or three
firft have been perufed perhaps more eagerly,
and more frequently, than the reft. When
he got as far as the fourth or fifth, fcis grief
was naturally either diminifhed or exhaufted.
We find the fame religion, the fame piety ^
but we hear lefs of Philander and of
NarcifTa.

Mrs, Temple died in her bridal hour at
Nice. Young, with the reft of her family^
accompanied her to the continent.

I flew, I fnatch'd her from the rigid North,
And bore her nearer to the fun.

The poet feems to dwell with more melan-
choly on the deaths of Philander and Nar-
eiffa, than of his wife. But it is only for
this reafon. He who runs and reads may
remember, that in the Night 'Thoughts Phi-
lander and Narciffa are often mentioned, and
often lamented. To recoiled: lamentations
over the author's wife, the memory muft
have been charged with diftinct paffages.
This Lady brought him one child, Frede-
8 rick,

YOUNG. 379

rick, now living, to whom the Prince of
Wales was godfather.

That domeflick grief is, in the firfl in-
ftance, to be thanked for thefe ornaments to
our language it is impoiTible to deny. Nor
would it be common hardinefs to contend,
that worldly difcontent had no hand in thefe
joint productions of poetry and piety. Yet
am I by no means fure that, at any rate,
we mould not have had fomethiag of the
fame colour from Young's pencil, notwith-
ftanding the livelinefs of his fatires. In fo
long a life, caufes for difcontent and occa-
lions for grief mufc have occurred. It is
not clear to me that his Mufe was not fitting
upon the watch for the firft which happened.
Night Thoughts were not uncommon to her,
even when firft me vifited the poet, and at a
time when he himfelf was remarkable neither
for gravity nor gloorninefs. In his Loft Day,
almoft his earliefl poem, he calls her the
nji}anch$ly Maid,

whom difmal fcenes delight,
Frequent at tombs and in the realms of Night.

:8o YOUNG.

»_/

In ths prayer which concludes the fecond
book of the fame poem, he fays

— Oh ! permit the gloom of folemn night
To facred thought may forcibly invite.
Oh ! how divine to tread the milky way,
To tire bright palace of Eternal Day !

When Young was writing a tragedy, Graf-
ton is fiid by Spence to have fent him a hu-
man fkull, with a candle in it, as a lamp ;
and the poet is reported to have ufed it.

What he calls " The true eftimate of
" Human Life," which has already been
mentioned, exhibits only the wrong fide of
the tapeilry; and being afked why he did not
fhow the right, he is faid to have replied he
could not — though by others it has been told
me that this was finifhed, but that a Lady's
monkey tore it in pieces before there exifted
r:ny copy.

Still, is it altogether fair to drefs up the
poet for the man, and to bring the gloomi-
nefs of the Night Thoughts to prove the
gloominefs of Young, and to fhew that his
genius, like the genius of Swift, was in fome
meafure the fullen infpiration of difcontent?
5 From

YOUNG. 381

From them who anfwer in the affirma-
tive it mould not be concealed that, though
Invijibilia non declpiunt was infcribed upgn a
deception in Young's grounds, and Alhbu-
lantes in horto audicrunt vocem Dei on a build-
ing in his garden, his parifti was indebted
to the good humour of the author of the
Night Thoughts for an aflembly and a bowl-
ing green.

Whether you think with me, I know not ;
but the famous De mortuis nil nifi bonum, al-
ways appeared to me to favour more of fe-
male weaknefs than of manly reafon. He
that has too much feeling to fpeak ill of
the dead, who, if they cannot defend them-
felves, are at leafl ignorant of his abufe, will
not hefitate by the mod wanton calumny to
deftroy the quiet, the reputation, the for-
tune of the living. Cenfure is not heard
beneath the tomb any more than praife. DC
mortuis nil niji verum — De vivis nil niji bo-
num — would approach perhaps much nearer
to good fenfe. After all, the few hand-
fills of remaining duft which once com-
pofed the body of the author of the Night

Thoughts,

382 YOUNG.

Thoughts, feel not much concern whether
Young pafTes now for a man of forrow, or
for a fellow of infinite jeft. To this favour
muft come the whole family of Yorick. —
His immortal part, wherever that now
dwells, is flill lefs folicitous on this head.

But to a fon of worth and fenfibility it
is of fome little confequence whether con-
temporaries believe, and poilerity be taught
to believe, that his debauched and reprobate
life caft a Stygian gloom over the evening
of his father's days, faved him the trouble
of feigning a character completely detefbble,
and fucceeded at laft in bringing his grey
hairs with forrow to the grave.

The humanity of the world, little fatisfi-
ed with inventing perhaps a melancholy dif-
pofition for the father, proceeds next to in-
vent an argument in fupport of their in-
vention, and choofes that Lorenzo mould be
Young's own fon. The Biographia and
every account of Young pretty roundly affert
this to be the fact: ; of the abiblute impoffi-
bility of which the Biographia itfelf, in par-
ticular dates, contains undeniable evidence.

Readers

YOUNG. 3S3

Readers I know there are of a ftrange turn
of mind, who will hereafter perufe the
Night 'Thoughts with lefs fatisfac~Hon ; who
will wifh they had fUll been deceived ; who
will quarrel with me for difcovering that no
fuch character as their Lorenzo ever yet dif-
graced human nature,or broke a father's heart.
Yet would thefe admirers of the fublime
and terrible be offended, mould you fet them
down for cruel and for favage.

Of this report, inhuman to the furviving
fon, if it be untrue, in proportion as the
character of Lorenzo is diabolical, wrhere are
we to find the proofs ? Perhaps it is clear
from the poems.

From the firft line to the laft of the
Night Thoughts, no one exprefiion can be
difcovered which betrays any thing like the
father. In the fecond Night I find an ex-
preffion which betrays fomething elfe ; that
Lorenzo was his friend -, one, it is poflible,
of his former companions ; one of the Duke
of Wharton's fet. The Poet ftyles him gay
Friend— an appellation not very natural from

a pious

384 YOUNG.

a pious incenfed father to fuch a being as
points Lorenzo, and that being his fon.

But let us fee how he has fketched this
dreadful portrait, from the fight of fome of
v\ hofe features the artift himfelf muft have
turned away with horror. — A fubject more
Chocking, if his only child really fat to him,
than the crucifixion of Michael Angelo; up-
on the horrid {lory told of which, Young
comppfed a mort Poem of fourteen lines in
the early part of life, which he did not think
delerved to be republifhed.

In the firft Night, the addrefs to the Poet's

fuppoied fon is,

Lorenzo, Fortune makes her court to thee.

' In the fifth Night —

And burns Lorenzo ftill foe the fublime
Of life ? to hang his airy neft on high I

Is this a picture of the fon of the rector cf
Welwyn ?

Eighth Night —

YOUNG. 385

In foreign realms (for thou haft travelled far)—
'which even now does not apply to his fon.

In Night five —

So wept Lorenzo fair ClariiTa's fate,

Who gave that angel-boy on whom he dotes,

And died to give him, orphan'd in his birth !

At the beginning of the fifth Night we
find-
Lorenzo, to recriminate is juft.
I grant the man is vain who writes for praife.

But, to cut fhort all enquiry; if any one
of thefe pafTages, if any pafTage in the poems
be applicable, my friend mall pafs for Lo-
renzo. The fon of the author of the
Night Thoughts was not old enough, when
they were written, to recriminate, or to
be a father. The Night Thoughts were be-
gun immediately after the mournful events
of 1741. The firfb Nights appear in the
books of the company of Stationers, as the
property of Robert Dodfley, in 1742. The
Preface to Night Seven is dated July the 7th,
744. The marriage, in confequence of

VOL. IV. Cc which

YOUNG

which the fuppofed Lorenzo was born, hap-
pened in May 1731. Young's child was^
not born till June 1733. In 1741 this Lo-
renzo, this fini flied infidel, this father, to
whofe education Vice had for fome years put
the lail hand, was only eight years old.

An anecdote of this cruel fort, fo open to
contradiction, fo impoffible to be true, who
could propagate? Thus eafily are Mailed the
reputations of the living and of the dead.

Who then was Lorenzo ? exclaim the
readers I have mentioned. If he was not his
fon, which would have been finely terrible,
was he not his nephew, his coufm ?

Thefe are queflions which I do not pre-
tend to anfwer. For the fake of human na-
ture, I could vvifh Lorenzo to have been only
the creation of the Poet's fancy — no more than
the Quintius of Anti Lucretius, quo nomine,
lays Polignac, q&fmws Atheum intellige. That
this was the cafe, many expreffions in the
Night Thoughts would feem to prove, did not
a palfage in Night Eight appear to mew that
he had fomebody in his eye for the ground-
work at leaft of the painting. Lovelace or

Lorenzo

YOUNG. 387

Lorenzo may be feigned characters ; but a
writer does not feign a name of which he
only gives the initial letter.

Tell not Califta. She will laugh thee dead.,
Or fend thee to her hermitage with L — .

The Biographia, not fatisfied with point-
ing out the fon of Young, in that fon's life-
time, as his father's Lorenzo, travels out of
its way into the hiftory of the fon, and tells
of his having been forbidden his college at
Oxford for mifoehaviour. How fuch anec-
dotes, were they true, tend to illuftrate the
life of Young, it is not eafy to difcover. If
the fon of the author of the Night ^Thoughts
was indeed forbidden his college for a time,
at one of our Univerfities, the author of Pa-
radlfe Loft is by fome fuppofed to have been
difgracefully ejected from the other. From
juvenile follies who is free ? But, whatever
the Biographia choofes to relate, the fon of
Young experienced no difmiffion from his
college either lafting or temporary.

Yet, were nature to indulge him with a
fecond youth, and to leave him at the fame
time the experience of that which is pail, he

C c 2 would

•2.88 YOUNG.

would probably fpend it differently— who
would not ? — he would certainly be the oc-
cafion of lefs uneafmefs to his father. But,
from the fame experience, he would as cer-
tainly, in the fame cafe, be treated differently
by his father.

Young was a poet; poets, with reverence
be it fpoken, do not make the heft parents.
Fancy and imagination feldom deign to floop
from their heights; always ftoop unwilling-
ly to the low level of common duties. Aloof
from vulgar life, they purfue their rapid
flight beyond the ken of mortals, and de-
fcend not to earth but when obliged by ne-
ceffity. The profe of ordinary occurrences
is beneath the dignity of poetry.

He who is connected with the Author of
the Night Thoughts only by veneration for
the Poet and the Chriftian, may be allowed
to obferve, that Young is one of thofe con-
cerning whom, as you remark in your ac-
count of Addifon, it is proper rather to fay
'* nothing that is falfe than all that is true."

But the ion of Youns; would alrnoft fooner,

I know, pals for a Lorenzo, than fee himfelf

vindicated,

YOUNG. 389

vindicated, at the expence of his father's
memory, from follies which, if it was blame-
able in a boy to have committed them, it is
furely praife-worthy in a man to lament,
and certainly not only unnecerTary but cruel
in a biographer to record.

Of the Night thoughts, notwithftanding
their author's profefled retirement, all are
infcribed to great or to growing names. He
had not yet weaned himfelf from Earls and
Dukes, from Speakers of the Houfe of Com-
mons, Lords Commiffioners of the Treafury,
and Chancellors of the Exchequer. In Night
Eight the politician plainly betrays him-
felf

Think no pofl needful that demands a knave.
When late our civil helm was fhifting hands,
So P — thought : think better if you can.

Yet it mufl be confefTed, that at the conclu-
iion of Night Nine, weary perhaps of court-
ing earthly patrons, he tells his foul,

Henceforth

Thy patron he, whofe diadem has dropt
Yon gems of heaven ; Eternity thy prize;
And leave the racers of the world their own.

C c 3 The

39°

YOUNG.

The Fourth Night was addrefTed by " a
" much-indebted Mufe" to the Honourable
Mr. Yorke, no\v Lord Hardwicke ; who
meant to have laid the Mufe under {till
greater obligations, by the living of Shenfield
in EfTex, if it had become vacant.

The Firil Night concludes with this paf-

Dark, though not blind, like thee, Meonides ;
Or Milton, thee. Ah ! could I reach your

flrain ;

Or his who made Meonides our own !
Man too he fung. Immortal man I Hng.
Oh had he prefl his theme, purfued the track
Which opens out of darknefs into day !
Oh had he mounted on his wing of fire,
Soar'd, where I fink, and fung immortal man —
How had it bleft mankind, and refcued me !

To the author of thefe lines was dedicated,
in 1756, the fir ft volume of an Effay on the
Writings and Genius of Pope, which attempt-
ed, whither juftly or not, to pluck from
Pope his Wing of Fire, and to reduce him
to a rank at leaft one degree lower than the
firft clafs of Englifh poets. If Young ac-
cepted and approved the dedication, he coun-

tenanced

YOUNG. 391

tenanced this attack upon the fame of him
whom he invokes as his Mufe.

Part of " paper- fparing" Pope's Third
Book of the Odyfley, dcpoiited in the Mu-
fe um, is written upon the back of a Letter
iigned E. Young, which is clearly the hand-
writing of our Young. The Letter, dated
only May the zd, feems obfcure ; but there
can be little doubt that the friendfhip he
requefls was a literary one, and that he had
the highell literary opinion of Pope. The
requeft was a prologue, I am told.

" Dear Sir, May the ad.

" Having been often from home, I know
" not if you have done me the favour of
" calling on me. But, be that as it will, I
" much want that inftance of your friend-
" mip I mentioned in my laft; a friendfhip
" I am very fenfible I can receive from no
" one but yourfelf. I mould not urge this
" thing fo much but for very particular rea-
" fons; nor can you be at a lofs to conceive
( ' how a trifle of this nature may be of ferious
" moment to me; and while I am in hopes
<c of the great advantage of your advice

C c 4 " about

jiuai

((

392 YOUNG.

" about it, I mail not be fo abfurd as to
" make any further ftep without it. I know
" you are much engaged, and only hope to
hear of you at your entire leifure.

I am, Sir, your moft faithful,

" and obedient fervant,

" E. YOUNG."

Nay, even after Pope's death, he fays, in
Night Seven :

Pope, who could'ft make immortals, art thou
dead ?

Either the Effayy then, was dedicated to a
patron who difapproved its doctrine, which
I have been told by the author was not the
cafe ; or Young, in his old age, bartered for
a dedication an opinion entertained of his
friend through all that part of life when he
muft have been befl able to form opinions.

From this account of Young, two or three
mort paffages, which ftand almoft together
in Night Four, mould not be excluded.
They afford a picture, by his own hand,
from the ftudy of which my readers may
choofe to form their own opinion of the fea-
tures of his mind, and the complexion of
his life.

Ah!

YOUNG. 393

Ah me ! the dire effect
Of loitering here, of death defrauded long;
Of old fo gracious (and let that fuffice),
My very mafter knows me not.

#
I've been fo long remember'd, I'm forgot.

When in his courtier's ears I pour my plaint,
They drink it as the Nectar of the Great;
And fqueeze my hand, and beg me come to-morrow.

Twice-told the period fpent on ftubborn Troy,
Court-favour, yet untaken, I befiege.

If this fong lives, Pofterity fhall know,
One, though in Britain born, with courtiers bred,
Who thought ev'n gold might come a day toolate;
Nor on his fubtle death-bed plann'd his fcheme
For future vacancies in church or ftate.

Deduct from the writer's age twice told the
period fpent on Jlubborn ¥roy, and you will
ftill leave him more than 40 when he fate
down to the miferable fiege of court favour.
He has before told us

" A fool at 40 is a fool indeed."

After all, the fiege feems to have been raifed
only in confequence of what the General

thought his death bed.

394

YOUNG.

By thefe extraordinary Poems, written af-
ter he was lixty, of which I have been led to
fay lb much, I hope, by the wi(h of doing
juilice to the living and the dead, it was the
defire of Young to be principally known.
He entitled the four volumes which he pub-
liflied himfelf, The Works of the Author of
the Night Thoughts, While it is remembered
that from thefe he excluded many of his
writings, let it not be forgotten that the re-
jected pieces contained nothing prejudicial
to the caufe of virtue, or of religion. Were
every thing that Young ever wrote to be
publ iflied, he would only appear perhaps in
a lefs refpedtable light as a poet, and more
defpicable as a dedicator: he would not pafs
for a worfe chriftian, or for a worfe man. —
This enviable praife is due to Young. Can it
be claimed by every writer? His dedications,
after all, he had perhaps no right to fup-
prefs. They all, I believe, fpeak, not a
little to the credit of his gratitude, of fa-
vours received; and I know not whether the
author, who has once folemnly printed an
acknowledgement of a favour, mould not
always print it,

YOUNG. 395

Is it to the credit or to the difcredit of
Young, as a poet, that of his Night Thoughts
the French are particularly fond ?

Of the "Epitaph on Lord Aubrey Beauclerk,
dated 1740, all I know is, that I find it in
the late body of Engiifn Poetry, and that I
am forry to find it there.

Notwithftanding the farewell which he
feemed to have taken in the Night 'Thoughts
of every thing which bore the leaft refem-
blance to ambition, he dipped again in po-
litics. In 1745 he wrote Reflections on the
publick Situation of the Kingdom, addrejfed to
the Duke of Ncwcajlle — indignant, as it ap-
pears, to behold

— a pope-bred Princeling crawl aihore,
And whittle cue-throats, with thofe fwords that

fcrap'd

Their barren rocks for wretched fufcenancej
To cut his pafTage to the Britifh throne.

This political poem might be called a Night
'Thought. Indeed it was originally printed as
the conclufion of the Night Thoughts, though
he did not gather it with his other works.

Prefixed

396 YOUNG.

Prefixed to the fecond edition of Howe's
Devout Meditations is a Letter from Young,
dated January 19, 1752, addrefTed to Archi-
bald Macauly, Efq; thanking him for the
book, which he fays " he (hall never lay far
<f out of his reach; for a greater demonftra-
" tion of a found head and a fmcere heart he
" never faw."

In 1753, when ^The Brothers had lain by
him above thirty years, it appeared upon the
ftage. If any part of his fortune had been
acquired by fervility of adulation, he now
determined to deduct from it no inconfiderable
fum, as a gift to the Society for the Propa-
gation of the Gofpel. To this fum he hoped
the profits of T?he Brothers would amount.
In his calculation he was deceived j but by
the bad fuccefs of his play the Society was
not a lofer. The author made up the fum
he originally intended, which was a thoufand
pounds, from his own pocket.

The next performance which he printed
was a profe publication, entitled, T/je Centaur
not fabulous, injix Letters to a Friend on the

Life

YOUNG. 397

Life in Vogue. The conclufion is dated No-
vember 29, 1754. In the third Letter is
described the death-bed of the gay, young,
noble, ingenious, accomplished, and mojl wretch-
ed Altamont. His laft words were — " My
" principles have poifoned my friend, my
" extravagance has beggared my boy, my
" unkindnefs has murdered my wile !" Ei-
ther Altamont and Lorenzo were the twin
production of fancy, or Young was unlucky
enough to know two characters who bore
no little refemblance to each other in perfec-
tion of wickednefs. Report has been accuf-
tomed to call Altamont Lord Euflon.

The Old Mans Relapfe, occafioned by an
Epiftle to Walpole, if it was written by
Young, which I much doubt, muil have
been written very late in life. It has been
feen, I am told, in a Mifcellany publifhed
thirty years before his death. — In 1758, he
exhibited The Old Mans Relapfe in more
than words, by again becoming a dedica-
tor, and publifhing a fermon addrefled to the
King.

The lively Letter in prole on Original
Compofition, add re fled to Richard fon the au-
thor

398 YOUNG.

thor of Clariffit, appeared in 1759. Though
he defpairs " of breaking through the frozen
'c obstructions of age and care's incumbent
*' cloud, into that flow of thought and
brightnefs of expreffion which fubjects fo
polite require ;" yet is it more like the
production of untamed, unbridled youth, than
of jaded fourfcore. Some fevenfold volumes
put him in mind of Ovid's fevenfold chan-
nels of the Nile at the conflagration.

oftia feptem

Pulverulenta vocant, feptem fine flumine valles.

Such leaden labours are like Lycurgus's iron
money, which was fo much lefs in value
than in bulk, that it required barns for
Jftrong boxes and a yoke of oxen to draw five
hundred pounds.

If there is a famine of invention in the
land, we mufl travel, he fays, like Jofeph's
brethren, far for food; we muft vifit the
remote and rich antients. But an inventive
genius may fafely flay at home ; that, like
the widow's crufe, is divinely replenimed
from within, and affords us a miraculous
delight. He aflcs why it mould feem alto-
gether impofFible, that Heaven's lateft edi-
tions

YOUNG. 399

tions of the human mind may be the mofl
correct and fair ? And Jonfon, he tells us,
was very learned, as Sampfon was very flrong,
to his own hurt. Blind to the nature of
tragedy, he pulled down all antiquity on his
head, and buried himfelf under it.

Is this " care's incumbent cloud," or "the
" frozen obftrudtions of age?"

In this letter Pope is feverely cenfured for
his " fall from Homer's numbers, free as air,
" lofty and harmonious as the fpheres, into
" childifh fhackles and tinkling founds; for
" putting Achilles in petticoats a fecond
<£ time/' — but we are told that the dying
fwan talked over an Epic plan with Young a
few weeks before his deceafe.

Young's chief inducement to write this
letter was, as he confefies, that he might
erect a monumental marble to the memory
of an old friend. He, who employed his
pious pen for almoft the iafh time in thus doing
juftice to the exemplary death-bed of Addi-
jfon, might probably, at the clofe of his
own life, afford no unufsful leflbn for the
deaths of others,

i In

400

YOUNG.

In the poftfcript he writes to Richardfon,
that he will fee in his next how far Addifon
is an original. But no other letter appears.

The few lines which Hand in the laft edi-
tion, zsfent by Lord Melcombe to Dr. Toungt
not long before his Lordjhip's death, were in-
deed fo fent, but were only an introduction
to what was there meant by The Mufes latejl
Spark. The poem is neceffary, whatever
may be its merit, fince the Preface to it is
already printed. Lord Melcombe called his
'Tufculum La T^rappe.

" Love thy country, wifh it well,

Not with too intenfe a care,
Tis enough, that, when it fell,

Thou its ruin didft not fliare.

Envy's cenfure, Flattery's praife,

With unmov'd indifference view;-
• Learn to tread Life's dangerous maze,
s With unerring Virtue's clue.

Void of ftrong defire and fear,
Life's wide ocean truft no more ;

Strive thy little bark to fleer

With the tide, but near the fhore.

Thus

YOUNG. 401

Thus prepar'd, thy Ihorten'cl fail
Shall, whene'er the winds increafe,

Seizing each propitious gale,
Waft thee to the Port of Peace.

Keep thy confcience from offence,

And tcmpeftuous paflions free,
So, when thou art calPd from hence^

Eafy fhall thy paflage be ;

Eafy fnall thy paflage be,

Chearful thy allotted flay,
Short the account 'twixt God and thee 5

Hope fhall meet thee on the way ;

Truth fhall lead thee to the gate,

Mercy's felf lhall let thee in,
Where its never-changing ftate

Full perfection fhall begin."

The Poem was accompanied by a Letter,

.
" La Trappe, the 27th Oct. 1761,

" Dear Sir,

'* You feemed to like the ode I fent you
<f for your amulement j I now fend it you
" as a prefent. If you pleafe to accept of
IC it, and are willing that our friendfhip
" fhould be known when we are gone, you
<£ will be pleafed to leave this among thofe

VOL., IV. D d " of

4c2 Y O U N G.

" of your own papers that may poffibly fee
" the light by a pofthumous publication.
" God fend us health while we flay, and an
" eafy journey !

" My dear Dr. Youno-

* ^3

" Yours, mofr, cordially,

" MEL COM BE."

In 1762, a fliort time before his death,'
Young published ~Refignation. Notwith-
ftanding the manner in which it was really
forced from him by the world, cnticilm has
treated it with no common feverity. If it
{hall be thought not to deferve the highefl
praife, on the other fide of fourfcore by
whom, except by Newton and by Waller,
has praife been merited ?

To Mrs. Montagu, the famous champion
of Shakfpeare, I am indebted for the hiftory
of Re/lunation. Obfervin? that Mrs. Bof-

*J O O

cawen, in the midfl of her grief for the
lofs of th-' admiral, derived confolation from
the perufal of the Night Ti bought s, Mrs.
Montagu propofed a viiit to the author.
From converling with Young Mrs. Bof-
cawen derived ftill further confolation, and
to that vifit llie and the world were indebted
i for

YOUNG. 403

for this poem. It compliments Mrs. Mon-
tagu in the following lines :

Yet, write I muft. A Lady flies,

How fhameful her requefl !
My brain in labour with dull rhyme,

Her's teeming with the beft !

And again — —

A friend you have, and I the fame,

Whofe prudent foft addrefs
Will bring to life thofe healing thoughts

Which died in your diftrefs.

That friend, the Ipirit of my theme

Extracting for your eafe,
Will leave to me the dreg, in thoughts

Too common ; fuch as thefe.

By the fame Lady I am enabled to fay, in
her own words, that Young's unbounded
genius appeared to greater advantage in the
companion, than even in the author — that
the chriitian was in him a character flill
more infpired, more enraptured, more fu-
blime than the poet — and that, in his or-
dinary converfation,

— letting down the golden chain from high,
He. drew his audience upward to the fey.

D d 2 Not-

4o4 YOUNG.

Notwith landing Young had {aid, in his
Conjectures on original Compofition, that
" blank verfe is verfc unfallen, uncurft ;
" verfe reclaimed., reinthroned in the true
" language of the Gods" — notwithftanding
he adminiftered confolation to his own grief
in this immortal language — Mrs. Bofcawen
was comforted in rhyme.

While the poet and the chriftian were ap-
plying this comfort, Young had himfelf oc-
caiion for comfort, in confequence of the
fudden death of Richardfon, who was print-
ing the former part of the poem. Of Ri-
chardfon's death he fays

When heaven would kindly fet us free,

And earth's enchantment end;
It takes the moft effectual means,

And robs us of a friend.

To Refignatwn was prefixed an Apology
for its appearance : to which more credit is
due than to the generality of fuch apologies,
from Young's unufual anxiety that no more
productions of his old age fliould difgrace
his former fame. In his will, dated Fe-
bruary

YOU G. 405

bruary 1760, he defires of his executors,
In a particular manner, that all his manu-
fcript books and writings whatever might be
burned, except his book of accounts.

In September 1764 he added a kind of co-
dicil, wherein he made it his dying intreaty
to his houfekeeper, to whom he left iooo/,
" that all his manufcripts might be deftroy-
" ed as foon as he was dead, which would

greatly oblige her deceafedyr/VW."

It may teach mankind the uncertainty of
worldly friendships, to know that Young,
either by furviving thofe he loved, or by out-
living their affections, could only recollect
the names of two friends, his houfekeeper
and a hatter, to mention in his will ; and it
may ferve to reprefs that teframentary pride,
which too often feeks for founding names
and titles, to be informed that the author of
the Night Thoughts did not blufh to leave a
legacy to his "friend Henry Stevens, a hat-
11 ter at the Temple-gate." Of thefe two re-
maining friends, one went before Young.
But, at eighty-four " where," as he alks in
The Centaur, " is that world into which we
" were born ?'

D d 3 The

4o6 Y O U N G,

The fame humility which marked a hatter
and a houfekeeper for the friends of the
author of the Night Thoughts, had before be-
flowed the fame title on his footman, in an
epitaph in his Church-yard upon James Bar-
ker, dated 1749; which I am glad to find in
the late collection of his works.

Young and his houfekeeper were ridiculed,
with more ill-nature than wit, in a kind of
novel publifhed by Kidgell in 1755, called
The Card) under the names of Dr, Elwes
and Mrs. Fulby.

Jn April 1765, at an age to which few at-
tain, a period was put to the life of Young.

He had performed no duty for the lafl
three or four years of his life, but he re-
tained his intellects to the lail.

Much is told in the Biograpbia, which I
know not to have been true, of the manner
of his burial — of the matter and children of
a charity-fchool, which he founded in his
parim, who neglected to attend their bene-
factor's corpfe; and of a bell which was not

caufed

YOUNG. 407

caufeci to toll fo often as upon thofe occa-
lions bells ufually toll. Had that hiu vanity,
which is here lavished upon things of little
confequence either to the living or to the
dead, been ihe\vn in its proper place to the
living, I fhould have had lei's to fay about
Lorenzo. They who lament that thefe mis-

fortunes happened to Young, forget the
praife he bellows upon Socrates, in the Pre-
face to Night Seven, for relenting his friend's
requeft about his funeral.

During foine part of his life Young was
abroad, but I have not been able to learn any
particulars.

In hn; feventh Satire he fays,

When, after battle, I the field havey><?;z
Spread o'er with ghaftly fhapes which once were
men.

And it is known that from this or from
fome other field he once wandered into the
enemy's camp, with a claffic in his hand,
which he was reading intently ; and had
fome difficulty to prove that he was only an
abfent poet and not a fpy.

D d 4 The

408 YOUNG.

The curious reader of Young's life will
naturally inquire to what it was owing, that,
though he lived almojft forty years after he
took Orders, which included one whole
reign uncommonly long, and part of ano-
ther, he was never thought worthy of the
leaf}, preferment. The author of the Night
'Thoughts ended his days upon a Living which
came to him from his College without any
favour, and to which he probably had an eye
when he determined on the Church. To
fatisfy curiofity of this kind is, at this diflance
of time, far from eafy. The parties them-
felves know not often, at the inftant, why
they are neglected, nor why they are pre-
ferred. The negledl of Young is by fome
afcribed to his having attached himfelf to
the Prince of Wales, and to his having
preached an offenilve fermon at St. James's.
It has been told me, that he had two hun-
dred a year in the late reign, by the patron-
age of Walpole; and that, whenever the
King was reminded of Young, the only an-
fwer was, he has a pen/ion. All the light
thrown on this inquiry, by the following
I-ctter from Seeker, only ferves to Ihew at

what

Y O U N G. 409

what a late period of life the author of the
Nigbf 'Thoughts folicited preferment.

<( Deanry of St. Paul's, July 8, 1758.

" Good Dr. Young,

" I have long wondered, that more iuit-
ff able notice of your great merit hath not
(( been taken by perfons in power. But
<c how to remedy the omhTion I lee not.
" No encouragement hath ever been given
" me to mention things of this nature to
" his Majefty. And therefore, in all likeli-
" hood, the only confequence of doing it
" would be weakening the little influence,
" which elie I may poffibly have on fome
" other occaiions. Your fortune and vour

reputation fet you above the need of ad-
vancement ; and your fentiments, above
" that concern for it, on your own ac-
" count, which, on that of the Public, is
" fmcerely felt by

<( Your loving Brother,

" THO?. CAN T."

At laft, at the age of fourfcore, he was ap-
pointed, in 1761, Clerk of the Clokt to the
Princeis Dowager.

One

. s

4io Y O U N G.

One obftacle fnuft have flood not a little
in the way of that preferment after which
his whole life panted. Though he took Or-
ders, he never intirely fhook off Politics.
He was always the Lion of his matter Mil-
ton, -pairing to get free his hinder parts. By
this conduct, if he gained fome friends, he
made many enemies.

Again, Young was a poet 5 and again,
with reverence be it fpoken, poets by pro-
feffion do not always make the beft clergy-
men. If the author of the Night 'Thoughts
compofed many fermons, he did not oblige
the public with many.

Befides, in the latter part of life, Young
was fond of holding himfelf out for a man
retired from the world. But he feemed to have
forgotten that the fame verfe which contains
oblitus meorum, contains alfo oblivijcendus G?
illis. The brittle chain of worldly friend-
ihip and patronage is broken as effectually,
when one goes beyond the length of it, as
when the other does. To the veffel which
is failing from the more, it only appears
that the more alfo recedes; in life it is truly

thus.

Y O U N G. 4n

thus. He who retires from the world, will
find himfelf, in reality, deferted as fail, if
not fafter, by the world. The publick is
not to be treated as the coxcomb treats his
miftrefs — to be threatened with defertion, in
order to increafe fondnefs.

Young feems to have been taken at his
word. Notwithflanding his frequent com-
plaints of being neglected, no hand was reach-
ed out to pull him from that retirement of
which he declared himfelf enamoured. Alex-
ander afligned no palace for the reiidence of
Diogenes, who boafted his furly fatisfaction
with his tub.

Of the dorneftick manners and petty habits
of the author of the Night thoughts, I hoped
to have given you an account from the beft
authority ; — but who mall dare to fay, To-
morrow I will be wife or virtuous, or to-
morrow I will do a particular thing ? Upon
enquiring for his houfekeeper, I learned that
me was buried two days before I reached the
town of her abode.

In a Letter from Tfcharner, a noble fo-
reigner, to Count Haller. Tfcharner fays, he

has

4i2 YOUNG.

has lately fpent four days with Young at
Welwyn, where the author taftes all the
eafe and pleafure mankind can defire. " Every
" thing about him mews the man, each in-
" dividual being placed by rule. All is neat
" without art. He is very pleafant in con-
" verfation, and extremely polite."

This, and more, may poffibly be true ;
but Tfcharner's was a firfl vifit, a vifit of
curiofity and admiration, and a vifit which
the author expected.

Of Edward Young an anecdote which wan-
ders among readers Is not true, that he was
Fielding's Parfon- Adams. The original of
that famous painting was William Young.
He too was a clergyman. He fupported an
uncomfortable exiflence by tranilating for
the bookfellers from Greek; and, if he was
not his own friend, was at leail; no man's
enemy. Yet the facility with which this re-
port has gained belief in the world, argues,
were it not fufficiently known, that the au-
thor of the Night Thoughts bore fome re-
femblance to Adams.

The

YOUNG. 413

The attention Young beftowed upon the
perufal of books is not unworthy imitation.
When any paflage pleafed him, he appears
to have folded down the leaf. On thefe paf-
fages he bellowed a fecond reading. But the
labours of man are too frequently vain. Be-
fore he returned, a fecond time, to much of
what he had once approved, he died. Many
of his books, which I have feen, are by thofe
notes of approbation fo fwelled beyond their
real bulk, that they will not flnit.

What though we wade in wealth, or fosr in fame!
Earth's highefl ftation ends in Here he lies !
And dujl to dujl concludes her noblefl fong !

The author of thefe lines is not without his
bic jacet.

By the good fenfe of his fon, it contains
none of that praife which no marble can
make the bad or the foolim merit -, which,
without the direction of a flone or a turf,
will rind its way, fooner or later, to the de-

fer ving.

M. S.

YOUNG.

M. S.

Optimi parentis

EDWARDI YOUNG, LL. D,

Hujus Ecclefi^ reft.

Et Elizabeths

fern, prsenob.

Conjugis ejus amantiflimfe

Pio & gratifiimo animo

Hoc marmor pofuit

F. Y.
Filius fuperftes.

Is It not flrange that the author of the
Night 'Thoughts has infcribed no monument
to the memory of his lamented wife ? Yet
what marble will endure as long as the

poems ?

Such, my good friend, is the account I
have been able to collect of Young. That it
may be long before any thing like what I
have juft tranfcribed be neceiTary for yon, is
the iincere wifh of,
Dear Sir,

Your greatly obliged Friend,

Lincoln's Inn, HERBERT CROFT, Tun.

ie^t. 1780.

F. S

YOUNG. 415

P. S. This account of Young was feen
by you in manufcript you know, Sir ;
and, though I could not prevail on you to
make any alterations, you infifted on ftrik-
ing out one pallage, only becaufe it faid,
that, if I did not wifh you to live long for
your fake, I did for the fake of myfelf and
of the world. But this poflfcript you will
not fee before it is printed ; and I will fay
here, in fpite of you, how I feel myfelf ho-
noured and bettered by your friendship —
and that, if I do credit to the church,
after which I always longed, and for which
I am now going to give in exchange the
bar, though not at fo late a period of life
as Young took Orders, it will be owing, in
no fmall meafure, to my having had the
happinefs of calling the author of The
Rambler my friend.

Oxford, T.J p "

Sept. 1782-

O F

4i6 YOUNG.

O F Young's Poems it is difficult to give
any general character ; for he has no uni-
formity of manner: one of his pieces has no
great refemblance to another. He began to
write early, and continued long; and at dif-
ferent times had different modes of poetical
excellence in view. His numbers are fome-
times fmooth, and ibmetimes rugged ; his
ityle is fometimes concatenated, and Ibme-
times abrupt; fometimes diffufive, and fome-
times concife. His plan feems to have ftart-
ed in his mind at the prefent moment, and
liis thoughts appear the effects of chance,
fometimes adverfe, and fometimes lucky, with
very little operation of judgement.

He was not one of the writers whom ex-
perience improves, and who obferving their
own faults become gradually correct. His
Poem on the Laft Day, his firft great per-
formance, has an equability and propriety,
which he afterwards either never endeavoured
or never attained. Many paragraphs are
noble, and few are mean, yet the whole is
languid j the plan is too much extended, and
a fucceffion of images divides and weakens

the

YOUNG. 417

the general conception ; but the great reafon
why the reader is diiappointed is, that the
thought of the LAST DAY makes every man
more than poetical, by fpreading over his
mind a general obicurity of iacrcd horror,
that opprefTes diftincT:ion, and diidains cx-
preffion.

His flory of Jans Grey was never popular.
It is written with elegance enough, but j^w
iti tcro hcroick to be pitied.

The Utihcrfal Pa/fton is indeed a very great
performance. It is laid to be a feries of Epi-
grams : but if it be, it is what the author
intended : his endeavour was at the pro-
duction of flriking diftichs and pointed fen-
tences ; and his diflichs have the weight of
iblid fentiment, and his points the iharpncfs
of reliftlefs truth. His characters are often
.felected with difcermnent, and drawn with
nicety; his illustrations are often happy, and
his reflections often juft. His fpecies of fa-
tire is between thofe of Horace and of Juve-
nal ; he has the gaiety of Horace without
his laxity of numbers, and the morality of
Juvenal with greater variation of images.

VOL. IV. Ee He

4i8 YOUNG,

He plays, indeed, only on the furface of life;
he never penetrates the receffes of the mind,
and therefore the whole power of his poetry
is exhausted by a fmgle perufal; his conceits
pleafe only when they furprife.

To tranilate he never condefcended, unlefs
his Parapbrafe on "Job may be coniidered as a
verfion; in which he has not, I think, been
unfuccefsful : he indeed favoured himfelf, by
chufmg thofe parts which moft ealily admit
the ornaments of Englifh poetry.

He had leail fuccefs in his lyrick attempts,,
in which he feems to have been under fome
malignant influence : he is always labouring
to be great, and at laft is only turgid.

In his Night 'Thoughts he has exhibited a
very wide difplay of original poetry, varie-
gated with deep reflections and ftrikingallu-
fions, a wildernefs of thought, in which the
fertility of fancy fcatters flowers of every hue
and of every odour. This is one of the few
poems in which blank verfe could not be
changed for rhyme but with difadvantage.
The wild difFufion of the fentiments, and

the

*Y O U N G. 419

the digreffive failles of imagination, would
have been comprelTed and reftrained by con-
finement to rhyme. The excellence of this
work is not exa&nefs, but copioufnefs; par-
ticular lines are not to be regarded; the
power is in the whole, and in the whole
there is a magnificence like that afcribed to
Chinefe Plantation, the magnificence of vaft
extent and endlefs diverfity.

, His lafl poem was the Refignation •> in
which he made, as he was accuftomed, an
experiment of a new mode of writing, and
fucceeded better than in his Ocean or his
Merchant. It was very falfely reprefented as
a proof of decaying faculties. There is
Young in every ftanza, fuch as he often was
in his higheft vigour.

His Tragedies not making part of the Col-
lection, I had forgotten, till Mr. Steevens re-
called them to my thoughts by remarking,
that he feemed to have one favourite cata-
ilrophe, as his three Plays all concluded
with lavifh fuicide ; a method by which, as
Dry den remarked, a poet eafily rids his fcene
of perfons whom he wants not to keep alive.

E e 2 In

42o YOUNG.

In Bujins there are the greateft ebullitions of
imagination; but the pride of Bufiris is fuch
as no other man can have, and the whole is
too remote from known life to raife either
grief, terrqr, or indignation. The Revenge
approaches much nearer to human practices
and manners, and therefore keeps porTeffion
of the ftage : the firft defign feems fuggefted
by Othello -y but the reflections, the incidents,
and the diction, are original. The moral
obfervations are fo introduced, and fo ex-
prefied, as to have all the novelty that can
be required. Of 'The Brothers I may be al-
lowed to fay nothing, iince nothing was ever
faid of it by the Publick.

It mull; be allowed of Young's poetry, that
it abounds in thought, but without much
accuracy or felection. When he lays hold
of an illustration, he purfues it beyond ex-
pectation, fometimes happily, as in his pa-
rallel of ^uickfiher with Pleafure, which I
have heard repeated with approbation by a
Lady, of whole praife he would have been
juftly proud, and which is very ingenious,
very fubtle, and almoit exact; but fome-
times he is lefs lucky, as when, in his Night

Thoughts,

YOUNG, 421

ought s, having it dropped into his mind,
that the orbs, floating in fpace, might be
called the chiftcr of Creation, he thinks on a
chiller of grapes, and fays, that they all
hang on the great Vine, drinking the nectar e-
cus juice cf immortal Lij'c.

His conceits are fometimes yet lefs valu-
able; in the "Lftjl Day, he hopes to illuftrate
the re-afTembly of the atoms that compofe
the human body at the 'Trump of Doom, by
the collection of bees into a fwarm at the
tinkling of a pan.

The Prophet fays of Tyre, that her Mer-
chants are Princes ; Young fays of Tyre in his
Merchant,

Her merchants Princes, and each deck a Throne.

Let burlefque try to go beyond him.

He has the trick of joining the turgid and

familiar : to buy the alliance of Britain,

Climes were paid down. Antithefis is his

favourite. 'They for kindnefs hate; and becaufe

foes right y foe's ever in the wrong.

His verification is his own, neither his
blank nor his rhyming lines have any refem-

E e 3 blance

422 YOUNG.

blance to thofe of former writers : he picks
up no hemiftichs, he copies no favourite ex-
preffions ; he feems to have laid up no ftores
of thought or diction, but to owe all to the
fortuitous fuggeftions of the prefent moment.
Yet I have reafon to believe that, when once
he had formed a new defign, he then labour-
ed it with very patient induftry, and that
he compofed with great labour, and frequent
revisions.

His verfes are formed by no certain mo-
del -, for he is no more like himfelf in his
different productions than he is like others.
He feems never to have fludied profody, nor
to have had any direction but from his own
ear. But, with all his defects, he was a man
of genius and a poet.

MALLET,

[ 423

MALLET.

OF DAVID MALLET, having no
written memorial, I am able to give
no other account than fuch as is fupplied by
the unauthorifed loquacity of common fame,
and a very flight perfonal knowledge.

He was by his original one of the Mac-
gregors, a clan that became, about fixty
years ago, under the conduct of Robin Roy,
fo formidable and fo infamous for violence
and robbery, that the name was annulled by
a legal abolition ; and when they were all to
denominate themfelves anew, the father, I
fuppofe, of this author called himfelf Mal-
loch.

E e 4 David

424

M A L L E T.

David Malloch was, by the penury of
Iiis parenls, compelled to be Janitor of the
High School at Edinburgh ; a mean office,
of which he did not afterwards delight to
hear. But he furmounted the difadvantages
of his birth and fortune; for w3v;n the Duke
of Montrofe applied to the College of Edin-
burgh for a tutor to educate his fons, Mai-

loch was recommended; and I 'never heard
.that he dimonoured his credentials.

When his pupils were lent to fee the
world, they were entrufled to his care ; and
having conducted them round the common
circle cf modiih travels, he returned with
them to London, where, by the influence of
the family in which he reftded, he naturally
gained admimon to many perfons of the
hig'heil rank, and the higher! character, to
wits, nobles, and iiatefmen.

Of his works, I know not whether I can

-
trace the ieries. His fjrit production was

William c]iid Margaret * j of which., though

Mallet's William and Margaret was printed in Aaron
Hill's PUi'i.i Dealer ^ N° 36, July 24, 1724. In its ori-
ginal ftate it was very different from what it is in the latt:
edition of his works.

MALLET. 425

It contains nothing very linking or difficult,
he has been envied the reputation • and pla-
giarilm has been boldly charged, but never
proved.

Not long afterwards he published the Ex-
curjio/i (1728); a defultory and capricious
view of fuch fcenes of Nature as his fancy

led him, or his knowledge enabled him, to
defcribe. It is not devoid of poetical fpirit.
Many of the images are flriking, and many
of the paragraphs are elegant. The caft of
diction feerns to be copied from Thomfon,
whofe Seafons were then in their full blofTom
of reputation. He has Thomibn's beauties
and his faults.

His poem on Verbal Criticifm (1733)
was written to pay court to Pope, on a
fubjecl: which he either did not underftand
or willingly mifreprefented -, and is little
more than an improvement, or rather ex-
panfion, of a fragment which Pope printed
in a Mifcellany long before he engrafted it
into a regular poem. There is in this piece
more pertnefs than wit, and more confi-
dence than knowledge. The verification

426 M A L L E T.

is tolerable, nor can criticifm allow it a
higher praife.

His flrft tragedy was Eurydice, acted at
Drury-Lane in 17315 of which I know
not the reception nor the merit, but have
heard it mentioned as a mean performance.
He was not then too high to accept a Pro-
logue and Epilogue from Aaron Hill, nei-
ther of which can be much commended.

Having cleared his tongue from his na-
tive pronunciation fo as to be no longer
difKnguifhed as a Scot, he feems inclined
to difencumber himfelf from all adherences
of his original, and took upon him to
change his name from Scotch Malloch to
Englifh Mallet, without any imaginable
reafon of preference which the eye or ear
can difcover. What other proofs he gave of
difrefpedfc to his native country I know not;
but it \vas remarked of him, that he was
the only Scot whom Scotchmen did not
commend.

About this time Pope, whom he vifittd
familiarly, published his Effiiy on Man, but

concealed

MALLET. 427

concealed the author ; and when Mallet en-
tered one day, Pope afked him flightly what
there was new. Mallet told him, that the
neweft piece was fomething called an Effay
on Man, which he had infpected idly ; and
feeing the utter inability of the author, who
had neither fkill in writing nor knowledge
of his fubject, had toiled it away. Pope,
to punim his felf-conceit, told him the
fee ret.

A new edition of the works of Bacon be-
ing prepared (1740) for the prefs, Mallet
was employed to prefix a Life, which he has
written with elegance, perhaps with fome
affectation ; but with fo much more know-
ledge of hiftory than of fcience, that when
he afterwards undertook the Life of Marl-
borough, Warburton remarked, that he
might perhaps forget that Marlborough was
a general, as he had forgotten that Bacon
was a philofopher.

When the Prince of Wales was driven
from the palace, and, fetting himfelf at the
head of the oppoiition, kept a feparate Court,
he endeavoured to enr*rea{e his popularity by

the

428 M A L L E T.

the patronage of literature, and made Mallet
his under- fecretary, with a falary of two hun-
dred pounds a year : Thomfon likewife had
a penfion ; and they were aiibciated in the
competition of the Maique of Alfred, which
in its original flate was played at Cliefden in
1740; it was afterwards almoft wholly chang-
ed by Mallet, and brought upon the flage
at Drury-Lane in 1751, but with no great
fucccfs.

Mallet, in a familiar converfation with
Garrick, difcourfing of the diligence which
he was then exerting upon the Life of Marl-
borough 9 let him know that in the feries
cf great men, quickly to he exhibited, he
ihould^W a nich for the hero of the theatre.
Garrick proferled to wonder by what arti-
fice he could be introduced ; but Mallet
let him know, that, by a dexterous antici-
pation, he mould fix him in a confpicuous
place. " Mr. Mallet," fays Garrick, in his
gratitude of exultation, " have you left off
" to write for the flage ?" Mallet then
conferled that he had a drama in his hands.
Garrick proniifed to aft it ; and Alfred was
produced.

5 The

M A L L E T. 429

The loner retardation of the Life of the

duke of Marlborough {hews, with flrong
conviction, how little confidence can be
placed in poflhumous renown. When he
died, it was foon determined that his ftory
fhould be delivered to pofterity ; and the
papers fuppofed to contain the neceflary in-
formation were delivered to the lord Molef-
worth, who had been his favourite in Flan-
ders. When Molefworth died, the fame
papers were transferred with the fame de-
fign to Sir Richard Steele, who in fome
of his exigences put them in pawn. They
then remained with the old dutchefs, who
in her will afllgned the tafk to Glover and
Mallet, with a reward of a thoufand pounds,
and a prohibition to iniert any verfes.
Glover rejected, I fuppofe, with difdain the
legacy, and devolved the whol- work upon
Mallet ; who haJ from t!.e late duke of
Marlborough a p_.^,on to promote his in-
duftry, and who talked of the difcoveries
»«, hich he made ; but left not, when he
died, any hiilorical labours behind him.

While

43°

MALLET.

While he was in the Prince's fervice he
publifhed Mujlapba, with a Prologue by
Thomfon, not mean, but far inferior to
that which he had received from Mallet for
Agamemnon. The Epilogue, faid to be writ-
ten by a friend, was compofed in hafte by
Mallet, in the place of one promifed, which
was never given. This tragedy was dedicat-
ed to the Prince his matter. It was acted at
Drury-Lane in 1739, and was well received,
but was never revived.

In 1740, he produced, as has been already
mentioned, the mafque of Alfred, in con-
junction with Thomfon.

For forne time afterwards he lay at reft,,
After a long interval, his next work was
Amyntor and Theodora (1747), a long ftory
in blank verfe -y in which it cannot be de-
nied that there is copioufnefs and elegance
of language, vigour of fentiment, and ima-
gery well adapted to take porTemon of the
fancy. But it is blank verfe. This he fold
to Vaillant for one hundred and twenty

pounds,
6

M A L L E T. 431

pounds. The fir ft lale was not great, and
it is now loft in forgetfulnefs.

Mallet, by addrefs or accident, perhaps
by his dependance on the Prince, found his
way to Bolingbroke; a man whole pride and
petulance made his kindnefs difficult to gain,
or keep, and whom Mallet was ccntent to
court by an act, which, I hcpe, was unwil-
lingly performed. When it was found th
Pope had clandeftinely printed an unau-
thorifed number of the pamphlet called T :
Patriot King, Bolingbroke, in a fit of ufe-
lefs fury, refolved to bkft his memory, and
employed Mallet (1747) as the executioner
of his vengeance. Mallet had not virtue,
or had not fpirit, to refufe the office ; and
was rewarded, not long after, with the le-
gacy of lord Bolingbroke's works.

Many of the political pieces had been
written during the cppofition to Walpole,
and given to Franklin, as he luppofed, in
perpetuity. Thefe, among the reft, were
claimed by the will. The queftion was re-
ferred to arbitrators ; but when they de-

ci .

452 M A L L E T.

cided agairiil Mallet, he refufed to yield to
the award ; aad by the- help of Millar the
bookfeller published all that he could find,
but with iucceis very much below his ex-
pectation.

In 17^3, hi,? mafque of Britannia was
acted at Drury-Lane, and his tragedy of
Elvira in 1763 ; in which year he was ap-
pointed keeper of the book of Entries for
ihips in the port of London.

In the beginning of the laft war, when the
nation was exafperated by ill fuccefs, he was
employed to turn the publick vengeance
upon Byng, and wrote a letter of accufation
under the character of a Plain Man. The
paper was with great induftry circulated and
difperfed ; and he, for his feafonable inter-
vention, had a confiderable penlion bellowed
upon him, which he retained to his death.

Towards the end of his life he went with
his wife to France; but after a while, finding
his health declining, he returned alone to
England, and died in April 1765.

MALLET. 433

He was twice married, £nd by his fir ft
wife had fevenil children. One daughter, v
married an Italian of rank named Cilciia,
wrote a tragedy called Almida, which \:?.i
acted at Drury-Lane. His fee-on d \vne was
the daughter of a nobleman's ileward, who
had a confiderable fortune, which Hie took
care to retain in her own hands.

His ftature was diminutive, but he was
regularly formed ; his appearance, till he
grew corpulent, was agreeable, and he fuf-
fered it to want no recommendation that
drefs could give it. His converfation v.
elegant and eaiy. The rett of his character
may, without injury to his memory, link
into iilence.

As a writer, he cannot be placed in any
high clafs. There is no ipecies of compo-
fition in which he was eminent. His Dramas
had their day, a fhort day, and are forgotten :
his blank verfe feems to my ear the echo of
Thomfon. His Life of Bacon is known as it
is appended to Bacon's volumes, but is no
longer mentioned. His works are fuch <;s u

VOL, IV. F f wr;

434 MALLET.

writer, hurtling in the world, {hewing him-
felf in publick, and emerging occafionally
from time to time into notice, might keep
alive by his perfonal influence ; but which,
conveying little information, and giving no
great pleafure, mult foon give way, as the fuc-
ceffion of things produces newtopicks of con-
verfation, and other modes of arnufement.

A K E N

[ 435 1

A K E N S I D E.

MARK AKENSIDE was born on
the ninth of November, 1721, at
Newcaftle upon Tyne. His father, Mark,
was a butcher of the Prefbyterian feet ; his
mother's name was Mary Lumfden. He re-
ceived the firft part of his education at the
grammar- fchool of Newcaftle ; and was af-
terwards inftrufted by Mr. Wilfon, who
kept a private academy.

At the age of eighteen he was fent to
Edinburgh, that he might qualify himfelf
for the office of a diflentingminifter, and re-
ceived fome affiftance from the fund which
the DilTenters employ in educating young
men of fcanty fortune. But a wider view of
the world opened other fcenes, and prompt-
ed other hopes : he determined to ftudyphyfic,
and repaid that contribution, which, being
received for a different purpofe, he juftly
thought it dishonourable to retain.

F f 2 Whether,

436 A K E N S I D E.

Whether, when he refolved not to be a
diffenting minifler, he ceafed to be a Diffen^-
ter, I know not. He certainly retained an
unrieceflary and outrageous zeal for what he
called and thought liberty ; a zeal which
fometimes difguifes from the world, and not
rarely from the mind which it pofTefTes, an
envious defire of plundering wealth or de~
grading greatnefs ; and of which the imme-
diate tendency is innovation and anarchy,
an impetuous eagernefs to fubvert and con-
found, with very little care what mail be
eftablifhed.

Akenfide was one of thofe poets who have
felt very early the motions of genius, and
one of thofe ftudents who have very early
ftored their memories with fentiments and
images. Many of his performances were
produced in his youth ; and his greateft
work, The Pleafures of Imagination, appeared
in 1744. I have heard Dodiley, by whom it
was publifhed, relate, that when the copy
was offered him, the price demanded for it,
which was art hundred and twenty pounds,
being fuch as he was not inclined to give

preci-

A K E N S I D E. 437

precipitately, he carried the work to Pope,
who, having looked into it, advifed him not
to make a niggardly offer ; for this ivas no
every-day writer.

In 1741 he went to Leyden, in purfuit of
medical knowledge -y and three years after-
wards (May 1 6, 1744) became doctor of
phyfick, having, according to the cuftom of
the Dutch Univerfities, publiilied a thefis, or
diifertation. The fubject which he chofe was
the Original and Gro-wth of the Human Feet us-,
in which he is faid to have departed, with
great judgement, from the opinion then efla-
bliihed, and to have delivered that which has
been fince confirmed and received.

Akenfide was a young man, warm with
every notion that by nature or accident had
been connected with the found of liberty,
and by an excentricity which fuch difpolitions
do not ealily avoid, a lover of contradiction,
and no friend to any thing eftablifhed. He
adopted Shaftefbury's fooliih alTertion of the
efficacy of ridicule for the difcovery of truth.
For this he was attacked by Warburton, and
defended by Dyfon : Warburton afterwards

F f 3 reprinted

43S A K E N S I D E.

reprinted his remarks at the end of his dedi*
cation to the Freethinkers.

The refult of all the arguments which have
been produced in a long and eager difcurTion
of this idle queftion, may eafily be collected.
If ridicule be applied to any pofition as the
teft of truth, it will then become a queftion
whether fuch ridicule bejuftj and this can
only be decided by the application of truth,
as the teft of ridicule. Two men, fearing,
one a real and the other a fancied danger,
will be for a while equally expofed to the
inevitable confequences of cowardice, con-
temptuous cenfure, and ludicrous reprefenta-
tion ; and the true ftate of both cafes muft
be known, before it can be decided whofe
terror is rational, and whofe is ridiculous ;
who is to be pitied, and who to be defpifed.
Both are for a while equally expofed to
laughter, but both are not therefore equally
contemptible.

In the revifal of his poem, which he died
before he had finifhed, he omitted the lines
which had given occafion to Warburton's
objections.

A K E N S I D E. 339

He published, foon after his return from
Leyden (1745), his firft collection of odes;
and was impelled by his rage of patriotifm
to write a very acrimonious epiftle toPulteney,
whom he ftigmatizes, under the name of
Curio, as the betrayer of his country.

Being now to live by his profeffion, he
firft commenced phyfician at Northampton,
where Dr. Stonhoufe then practifed, with
fuch reputation and fuccefs, that a ftranger
was not likely to gain ground upon him.
Akenfide tried the conteft a while ; and, hav-
ing deafened the place with clamours for li-
berty, removed to Hampftead, where he re-
fided more than two years, and then fixed
himfelf in London, the proper place for a
man of accomplishments like his.

At London he was known as a poet, but
was ftill to make his way as a phylician ;
and would perhaps have been reduced to
great exigences, but that Mr. Dyfon, with
an ardour of friendfhip that has not many
examples, allowed him three hundred pounds
a year. Thus fupported, he advanced gra-

F f 4. dually

440 A K E N S I D E,

dually in medical reputation, but never at-
tained any great extent of practice, or emi-
nence of popularity. A phyfician in a great
city feems to be the mere play-thing of For-
tune ; his degree of reputation is, for the
moft part, totally cafual : they that employ
him, know not his excellence; they that re-
ject him, know not his deficience. By an
acute obferver, who had looked on the tranf-
actions of the medical world for half a cen-
tury, a very curious book might be written
on the Fortune of Phyficians.

Akeniide appears not to have been want-
ing to his own fuccefs : he placed himfelf in
view by all the common methods ; he be-
came a Fellow of the Royal Society ; he ob-
tained a degree at Cambridge, and was ad-
mitted into the College of Phyficians ; he
wrote little poetry, but publifhed, from time
to time, medical effays and obfervationsj he
became phyfician to St. Thomas's Hofpital;
lie read the Gulftonian Lectures in Ana-
tomy ; but began to give, for the Crounian
Lecture, a hi (lory of the revival of Learn-
ing, from which he foon defifted ; and, in
converfation, he ^Try eagerly forced himfelf

into

A K E N S I D E. 441

into notice by an ambitious oftentation of
elegance and literature.

His Difcourfe on the Dyfentery (1764)
was confidered as a very confpicuous fpeci-
men of Latinity, which' entitled him to the
fame height of place among the fcholars as
he poiTeffed before among the \vits ; and he
might perhaps have rifen to a greater eleva-
tion of character, but that his fludies were
ended with his life, by a putrid fever, June
23, 1770, in the forty-ninth year of his age.

A KEN SIDE is to be confidered .as a
didactick and lyrick poet. His great work
is the Pleafures of Imagination • a perform-
ance which, publiilied, as it was, at the ags
of twenty-three, raifed expectations that
were not afterwards very amply fatisfied. It
has undoubtedly a juft claim to very parti-
cular notice, as an example of great felicity
of genius, and uncommon amplitude of a-c-
quiiitions, of a young mind flored with
images, and much exercifed in combining
and comparing them.

v> .:

442

A K E N S I D E.

With the philofophical or religious tenets
of the author I have nothing to do 5 my bu-
fmefs is with his poetry. The fubjedt is
well-chofen, as it includes all images that
can ftrike or pleafe, and thus comprifes every
fpecies of poetical delight. The only diffi-
culty is in the choice of examples and illuf-
trations, and it is not eafy in fuch exuberance
of matter to find the middle point between
penury and fatiety. The parts feem artifici-
ally difpofed, with fufficient coherence, fo as
that they cannot change their places without
injury to the general defign.

His images are displayed with fuch luxuri-
ance of expreffion, that they are hidden, like
Butler's Moon, by a Veil of Light -y they arc
forms fantaftically loft under fuperfluity of
drefs. Pars minima eft ipfa Puellafui. Tha
words are multiplied till the fenfe is hardly
perceived; attention deferts the mind, and
fettles in the ear. The reader wanders
through the gay dirTufion, fometimes amazed,
and fometimes delighted ; but, after many

turnings in the flowery labyrinth, comes out

A K E N S I D E. 443

as he went in. He remarked little, and laid
hold on nothing.

To his verification juftice requires that
praife mould not be denied. In the general
fabrication of his lines he is perhaps fuperior
to any other writer of blank verfe; his flow
is fmooth, and his paufes are mufical ; but
the concatenation of his verfes is commonly
too long continued, and the full clofe does
not recur with fufficient frequency. The
fenfe is carried on through a long intertexture
of complicated claufes, and as nothing is dif-
tinguilhed, nothing is remembered.

The exemption which blank verfe affords
from the neceffity of doling the fenfe with
the couplet, betrays luxuriant and active
minds into fuch felf- indulgence, that they
pile image upon image, ornament upon or-
nament, and are not eafily perfuaded to clofe
the fenfe at all. Blank verfe will therefore,
I fear, be too often found in defcription
exuberant, in argument loquacious, and in
narration tirefome. \

His diction is certainly poetical as it is
not pfofaick, and elegant as it is not vulgar.

444 A K E N S I D E.

He is to be commended as having fewer ar-
tifices of difguft than moil of his brethren
of the blank fong. Ke rarely either recalls
old phrafes or twifts his metre into harm,
inveriions. The fenfe however of his words
is trained ; when he views the Ganges from
Alpine heights ; that is, from mountains
like the Alps. And the pedant furely in-
trudes, but when was blank verfe without
pedantry ? when he tells how Planets ab-
folve the ftated round of Time.

It is generally known to the readers of
poetry that he intended to revife and augment
this work, but died before he had completed
^his defign. The reformed work as he left
it, and the additions which he had made, are
very properly retained in the late collection.
He feems to have fomewhat contracted his
diffufion -y but I know not whether he has
gained in clofenefs what he has loft in fplen-
dor. In the additional book, the 'Tale of
Solon is too long.

One great defect of his poem is very pro-
perly cenfured by Mr. Walker, unlefs it
may be faid in his defence, that what he has

omitted

A K E N S I D E. 445

omitted was not properly in his plan. " His

" picture of man is grand and beautiful, but

" unfinifhed. The immortality of the foul,

" which is the natural confequence of the

<{ appetites and powers me is inverted with,

tc is fcarcely once hinted throughout the

<f poem. This deficiency is amply fupplied

" by the mafterly pencil of Dr. Young ;

" who, like a good philofopher, has in-

<( vincibly proved the immortality of man,

" from the grandeur of his conceptions,

" and the meannefs and mifery of his flate;

" for this reafon, a few pafTages are felected

" from the Night 'Thoughts, which, with

te thofe from Akeniide, feem to form a com-

" plete view of the powers, fituation, and

". end of man." Exercifes for Improvement

in Elocution, p.

His other poems are now to be confider-
ed ; but a fhort confideration will difpatch
them. It is not eafy to guefs why he ad-
dicted himfelf ib diligently to lyricr: poetry,
having neither the eafe and iiiiincfs of the
lighter, nor the vehemence and elevation of
the grander ode. When he lays his ill-fated
Jiand upon his harp, his former powers feem

446 AKENSIDE.

to defert him; he has no longer his luxuri-
ance of expreffion, nor variety of images.
His thoughts are cold, and his words inele-
gant. Yet fuch was his love of lyricks, that,
having written with great vigour and poig-
nancy his Epiftle to Curio, he transformed it
afterwards into an ode difgraceful only to its
author.

Of his odes nothing favourable can be faid j
the fentiments commonly want force, nature,
or novelty j the diction is fometimes harfh
and uncouth, the ftanzas ill-conftruclied and
unpleafant, and the rhymes dilTonant, or
unfkilfully difpofed, too diftant from each
other, or arranged with too little regard to
eftablifhed ufe, and therefore perplexing to
the ear, which in a fhort compoiition has not
time to grow familiar with an innovation.

To examine fuch compofitions fingly, can-
not be required- they have doubtlefs brighter
and darker parts : but when they are once
found to be generally dull, all further labour
may be fpared; for to what ufe can the work
be criticifed that will not be read ?

GRAY.

447 J

GRAY.

THOMAS GRAY, the fon of Mr.
Philip Gray, a fcrivener of London,
was born in Cornhill, November 26, 1716.
His grammatical education he received at
Eton under the care of Mr. Antrobus, his
mother's brother, then affiftant to Dr. George;
and when he left fchool, in 1734, entered a
penfioner at Peterhoufe in Cambridge.

The tranfition from the fchool to the col-
lege is, to moil young fcholars, the time
from which they date their years of manhood,
liberty, and happinefs ; but Gray feems to
have been very little delighted with acade-
mical gratifications j he liked at Cambridge
neither the mode of life nor the famion of
ftudy, and lived fullenly on to the time when
his attendance on lectures was no longer re-
quired. As he intended to profefs the Com-
mon Law, he took no degree.

4 When

448 G R A Y.

When he had been at Cambridge about
£ve years, Mr. Horace Wai pole, whofe
friendship he had gained at Eton, invited
him to travel with him as his companion.
They wandered through France into Italy •
and Gray's Letters contain a very pleafing
account of many parts of their journey.
But unequal friendships are eafily diifolved :
at Florence they quarrelled, and parted; and
Mr. Walpole is now content to have it told
that it was by his fault. If we look however
without prejudice on the world, we (hall find
that men, whofe confcioufnefs of their own
merit fets them above the compliances of fer-
vility, are apt enough in their aflbciation
with fuperiors to watch their own dignity
with troublefome and punctilious jealoufy,
and in the fervour of independence to exact
that attention which they refufe to pay. Part
they did, whatever was the quarrel, and the
reft of their travels was doubtlcfs more
unpleafant to them both. Gray continued his
journey in a manner fuitable to his own little
fortune, with only an occafional fervant.

GRAY. 449

He returned to England in September
1741, and in about two months afterwards
buried his father; who had, by an injudici-
ous wafte of money upon a new houfe, Ib
much leflened his fortune, that Gray thought
himfelf too poor to ftudy the law. He there-
fore retired to Cambridge, where he foon
after became Bachelor of Civil Law ; and
where, without liking the place or its inha-
bitants, or profeiTmg to like them, he paff-
ed, except a mort refidence at London, the
reft of his life.

About this time be was deprived of Mr.
Weft, the fon of a chancellor of Ireland, a
friend on whom he appears to have let a high
value, and who deferved his eftecm by the
powers which he mews in bis Letters, and
in the Ode to May, which Mr. Maibn has
preferved, as well as by the fincerity with
which, when Gray fent him part of Agrip-
pina, a tragedy that he had juft begun, lie
gave an opinion which probably intercepted
the progrefs of the work, and whick the
judgement of every reader will confirm. It
was certainly no lofs to the Englim ftage
that Agrippina was never finiflaed.

VOL. IV. G g In

450 G R A Y.

In this year (1742) Gray feems firft t<3
have applied himfelf ferioufly to poetry; for
in this year were produced the Ode to Spring,
his ProfpeSl of Eton > and his Ode to Adver-
fity. He began likewife a Latin poem, d-e
Prmcipiis cogitandi.

It may be collected from the narrative of
Mr. Mafon, that his firft ambition was to
have excelled in Latin poetry : perhaps it
were reafonable to wifh that he had profe-
cuted his defign; for though there is atpre-
fent fome embarraiTment in his phrafe, and
fome harmnefs inv his Lyrick numbers, his
copioufnefs of language is fuch as very fe\v
poffefs ; and his lines, even when imperfect,
(^ifcover a writer whom practice would quick-
ly have made fkilful.

He now lived on at Peterhoufe, very little
felicitous what others did or thought, and
cultivated his mind and enlarged his views
without any other purpofe than of improv-
ing and amuling himfelf; when Mr. Mafbn,
being elected fellow of Pembroke-hall,
brought him a companion who was after-
wards

GRAY. 451

wards to be his editor, and whole fondnefs
and fidelity has kindled in him a zeal of ad-
miration, which cannot be reafonably ex-
pected from the neutrality of a ftranger and
the coldnefs of a critick.

In this retirement he wrote (1747) an ode
on the Death of Mr. Walpole s Cat-t and the
year afterwards attempted a poem of more
importance, on Government and Education^
of which the fragments which remain have
many excellent lines.

His next production (1750) was his far-
famed Elegy in the Church-yard, which, find-
ing its way into a Magazine, firfr, I believd,
made him known to the publick.

An invitation from lady Cobham about
this time gave occasion to an odd compefi-
tion called a Long Story, which adds little
to Gray's character.

— veral of his pieces were publifhed( 1 753),
with defig-ns, by Mr. Bentley -, and, that
they might in fome form cr other make a
kook, only one fide of each leaf was printed.

G g 2 I believe

45* G R A V.

I believe the poems and the plates recom-
mended each other fo well, that the whole
imprelTion was foon bought. This year he
loft his mother.

Some time afterwards (1756) fome young
men of the college, whofe chambers were
near his, diverted themfelves with difturbing
him by frequent and troublefome noifes,
and, as is faid, by pranks yet more offenfive
and contemptuous. This infolence, having
endured it a while, he reprefented to the
governors of the fociety, among whom per-
haps he had no friends ; and, finding his
complaint little regarded, removed himfelf

r> LI 1 11

to Pembroke-hall.

In 1757 he publifhed T?he Progrefs of
Poetry and The Eardy two compofitions at
which the readers of poetry were at firft con-
tent to gaze in mute amazement. Some
that tried them confeffed their inability to
underftand them, though Warburton faid
that they were underftood as well as the
*vorks of Milton and Shakfpeare, which it is
the fafhion to admire. Garrick wrote a few

lines in their praife. Some hardy champions

,
under-

GRAY. 453

undertook to refcue them from neglect, and
in a ihort time many were content to be
ihewn beauties which they could not fee.

Gray's reputation was now fo high, th^t,
after the death of Gibber, he had the honour
of refilling the laurel, which was then be~
ifcowed on Mr. Whitehead.

His curiofity, not long after, drew him
away from Cambridge to a lodging near the
Mufeum, where he rtfided near three years,
reading and tranfcribing; and, fo far as can
be difcovered, very little affected by two odes
on Oblivion and Obfcurity, in which his
Lyrick performances were ridiculed with
much contempt and much ingenuity.

When the ProfelTor of Modern Hiftory at
Cambridge died, he was, as he fays, cockered
and jointed upy till he afked it of lord Bute,
who fent him a civil refufal ; and the place
was given to Mr. Brocket, the tutor of Sir
James Lowther,

fiis confUtution was weak, and believing
that his health was promoted by exercife and

G g 3 change

454 GRAY.

change of place, he undertook (1765) a jour-
ney into Scotland, of which his account, fo
far as it extends, is very curious and elegant ;
for as his compreheniion was ample, his cu-
riofity extended to all the works of art, all
the appearances of nature, and all the monu-
ments of paft events. He naturally con-
tracted a friendship with Dr. Beattie, whom
he found a poet, a philofopher, and a good
man. The Marefchai College at Aberdeen
offered him the degree of Doctor of Laws,

which, having omitted to take it at Cam-

1
bridge, he tnought it decent to refuie.

.HJF'

What he had formerly folicited in vain,
was at laft given him without folicitation.
The Profeflbrmip of Hiflory became again
vacant, and he received (1768) an offer of
it froni the duke of Grafton. He accepted,
and retained it to his death ; always defign-
ing lectures, but never reading them ; un-
eafy at his neglect of duty, and appeafing
his uneafmefs with defigns of reformation,
and with a refolution which he believed him-
felf to have made of refigning the office, if he
found himfelf unable to difcharo:e it.

111

GRAY. 455

111 health made another journey neceflary,
and he viiited (1769) Weftmoreland and
Cumberland. He that reads his epiftolary
narration wiflies, that to travel, and to tell
his travels, had been more of his employ-
ment; but it is by ftudying at home that we
mufl obtain the ability of travelling with in-
telligence and improvement.

His travels and his ftudies were now near
their end. The gout, of which he had fuf-
tained many weak attacks, fell upon his
ilomach, and, yielding to no medicines, pro-*

duced flrong convulfions, which (July 30,

i • j i
1771) terminated in death.

His charader I am willing to adopt, aa
Mr. Mafon has done, from a Letter written
to my friend Mr. Bofwell, by the Rev, Mr.
Temple, redor of St. Gluvias in Cornwall ;
and am as willing as his warmed well-wimef
to believe it true.

" Perhaps he was the moft learned man
" in Europe. He was equally acquainted
"with the elegant and profound parts of

G g 4 " fcience,

456 G R AY.

" fcience, and that not fuperficially but

"thoroughly. He knew every branch of

" hiflory, both natural and civil -t had read

" all the original hiftorians of England,

" France, and Italy j and was a great anti-

" quarian. Criticifm, metaphyfics, morals,

*' politics, made a principal part of his

*' ftudy ; voyages and travels of all forts

" were his favourite amufements ; and he

" had a fine tafte in painting, prints, archi-

'* tecture, and gardening. With fuch a

*e fund of knowledge, his converfation muft

" have been equally instructing and enter-

*' taining j but he was alfo a good man, a

*' man of virtue and humanity. There is

" no character without fome fpeck, fome

<e imperfection ; and I think the greatefl de-

'* feet in his was an affectation in delicacy,

" or rather effeminacy, and a vifible faflidi^

" oufnefs, or contempt and difdain of his

*' inferiors in fcience. He alfo had, in fome

" degree, that weaknefs which difgufted Vol-

" taire fo much in Mr. Congreve: though he

'* feemed to value others chiefly according to

*' the progrefs they had made in knowledge,

" yet he could not bear to be confidered

f< himfelf merely as a man of letters -, and

" though

GRAY. 457

f< thoueh without birth, or fortune, or fta-

'* tion, his defire was to be looked upon as
" a private independent gentleman, who
*' read for his amufement. Perhaps it may
(( be faid, What fignifies fo much know-
" ledge, when it produced fo little ? Is it
*' worth taking fo much pains to leave no
" memorial but a few poems ? But let it be
" confidered that Mr. Gray was, to others,
" at leaft innocently employed j to himfelf,
(t certainly beneficially. His time paffed
" agreeably; he was every day making fome
16 new acquifition in fcience; his mind was
6( enlarged, his heart foftened, his virtue
*c ftrengthened; the world and mankind were
*f mewn to him without a mafk; and he was
" taught to confider every thing as trifling,

r and unworthy of the attention of a wife

man, except the purfuit of knowledge
*' and practice of virtue, in that flate where-
*' in God hath placed us."

•

To this character Mr. Mafon has added a
more particular account of Gray's (kill in
zoology. He has remarked, that Gray's
effeminacy was affected moil before thofe whom
be did not ivijh to pleafe ; and that he is un-

7 juftly

458 G R A Y.

juilly charged with making knowledge his
ibJe rcafon of preference, as he paid his
cileem to none whom he did not likewife be-

lieve to be good.

What has occurred to me, from the flight
infp^cHon of his Letters in which my un-
dertaking has engaged me, is, that his mind
had a large grafp ; that his curiofity was un-
limited, and his judgement cultivated; that
he was a man likely to love much where he
loved at all, but that he was faftidious and
hard to pleafe. His contempt however is
often employed, where I hope it will be ap-
proved, upon fcepticifm and infidelity. His
iliort account of Shafteibury I will infert.

" You fay you cannot conceive how lord
%< Shafteibury came to be a philofopher in
t( vogue; I will tell you: firft, he was a
" lord; fecondly, he was as vain as any of
i( his readers ; thirdly, men are very prone
• to believe v. hat they do not understand ;
lt fourthly, they will believe any thing at
*' all, provided they are under no obliga-
" tion to believe it; fifthly, they love to
•' take a new rond, even .when that road

" leads

GRAY, 459

f< leads no where -, fixthly, he was reckoned
f< a fine writer, and feems always to mean
" more than he faid. Would you have any
<( more reafons ? An interval of above forty
" years has pretty well deftroyed the charm.
" A dead lord ranks with commoners : va-
" nity is no longer interefted in the matter j
t( for a new road is become an old one,"

Mr. Mafon has added, from his own
knowledge, that though Gray was poor, he
was not eager of money ; and that, out of
the little that he had, he was very willing to
help the neceflitous.

As a writer he had this peculiarity, that
he did not write his pieces firft rudely, and
then correct them, but laboured every line
as it arofe in the train of competition ; and
he had a notion not very peculiar, that he
could not write but at certain times, or at
happy moments; a fantaftick foppery, to
which my kindnefs for a man of learning
and of virtue willies him to have been fu-

perior.

•

GRAY

460 G R A Y.

GRAY's Poetry is now to be coniidered -s
and I hope not to be looked on as an enemy
to his name, if I confefs that I contemplate
it with lefs pleafure than his life.

His ode on Spring has fomething poetical,
both in the language and the thought; but
the language is too luxuriant, and the
thoughts have nothing new. There has of
late arifen a practice of giving to adjectives,
derived from fubftantives, the termination of
participles ; fuch as the cultured plain, the
defied bank ; but I was forry to fee, in the
lines of a fcholar like Gray, the honied Spring.
The morality is natural, but too flale -3 the
concluiion is pretty.

The poem on the Cat was doubtlels by its
author coniidered as a trifle, but it is not a
happy trifle. In the firft ftanza the azure
flowers that blow, mew refolutely a rhyme is
fometimes made when it cannot eafily be
found. Selhna, the Cat, is called a nymph,
with feme violence both to language and
fenfe ; but there is good ufe made of it when
it is done -f ' for of the two lines,

What

G R A Y. 461

"What female heart can gold defpife ?
What cat's averfe to fifh ?

the firft relates merely to the nymph, and
the fecond only to the cat. The fixth flanza
contains a melancholy truth, that a favourite
has no 'friend ; but the laft ends in a pointed
fentence of no relation to the purpofe ; if
iv&at gllftered had been gold, the cat would
not have gone into the water \ and, if ihe
had, would not lefs have been drowned.

The Profpctf of Eton College fuggefts no-
thing to Gray, which every beholder does
not equally think and feel. 1 1 is fupplica-
tion to father Thames, to tell him who drives
the hoop or tofles the ball, is ufelefs and
puerile. Father Thames has no better mean?
of knowing than himfelf. His epithet buxom
health is not elegant; he feems not to under-
ftand the word. Gray thought his language
more poetical as it was more remote from
common ufe: rinding in Dryden honey rede-
lent of Spring, an expreilion that reaches the
utmoft limits of our language, Gray drov^
it a little more beyond common apprehen-

•

iion, by making gafes. to be redolent of joy
and youth.

462 G R A Y.

Of the Ode on Adverfity, the hint was at
firft taken from O Diva, gratum qu<$ rzgis
Antium -, but Gray has excelled his original
by the variety of his fentiments, and by
their moral application. Of this piece, at
once poetical and rational, I will not by
flight objections violate the dignity.

My procefs has now brought me to the
wonderful Wonder of Wonders, the two Siffer
Odes; by which, though either vulgar igno-
rance or common fenfe at firft univerfally re-
jected them, many have been fince perfuaded
to think themfelves delighted. I am one of
thofe that are willing to be pleafed, and there-
fore would gladly find the meaning of the
firft ftanza of the Progrefs of Poetry.

Gray feems in his rapture to confound the
images of fp reading found and running water.
A Jlream of mufick may be allowed j but
where does Mufick, however fmoot& andftrong,
after having vifited the verdant vales, rowl
down the Jlecp amain, fo as that rocks and
nodding groves rebellow to the roar? If this be
faid of Mufick, it is nonfenfe; if it be faid of
Water, it is nothing to the purpofe.

The

G R A V. 463

The fecond ftanza, exhibiting Mars's car
and Jove's eagle, is unworthy of further no-
tice. Criticifm difdains to chafe a ichool-
boy to his common places.

To the third it may likewife be objccled,
that it is drawn from Mythology, though
fuch as may be more eafily allimilated to real
life. Idalia's velvet-green has fomething of
cant. An epithet or metaphor drawn from
Nature ennobles Art ; an epithet or metaphor
drawn from Art degrades Nature. Gray is
too fond of words arbitrarily compounded.
Mdhy-tii'mkling was formerly cenfured as not
analogical -3 we may fay many -fitted, but
fcarcely many-fpotting. This ftanza, how-
ever, has fomething pleafmg.

Of the fecond ternary of ftanzas, the fir ft
endeavours to tell fomething, and would
have told it, had it not been c rolled by Hv-t

* *

perion : the fecond defcribss well enough
the univerial prevalence of Poetry; but I am
afraid that the conclusion will not rife from
the premifes. The caverns of the North
and the plains of Chili are not the refid-nces

464. GRAY.

of Glory and generous Shame. But that Poetry
and Virtue go always together is an opinion
fo pleating, that I can forgive him who re-
iblves to think it true.

The third ftanza founds big with Delphi,
and ILgean, and IHJfus, and Meander, and
balloted fountain tm&folemn found; but in all
Gray's odes there is a kind of cumbrous
fplendor which we wiili away. His petition
is at lad falfe : in the time of Dante and
Petrarch, from whom he derives our firfl
fchool of Poetry, Italy was over-run by tyrant
fowcr and kowara vice -, nor was our ftate
much better when \ve firfl borrowed the Ita-
lian arts.

Of the third ternary, the firft gives a my-
thological birth of Shakfpeare. What is
faid of that mighty genius is true ; but it is
not faid happily : the real effects of this poe-
tical power are put out of tight by the pomp
of machinery. Where truth is fufficient to
till the mind, fidion is worfe than ufelefs j
the counterfeit debafes the genuine.

His account of Milton's blindnefs, if we
fuppofe it caufed by ftudyin the formation of

his

GRAY. 465

his poem, a fuppofition furely allowable, is
poetically true, and happily imagined. But
the car of Dry den, with his two courfers, has
nothing in it peculiar; it is a car in which
any other rider may be placed.

e Bard appears, at the firft view, to be,
as Algarotti and others have remarked, an
imitation of the prophecy of Nereus. Al-
garotti thinks it fuperior to its original; and,
if preference depends only on the imagery
and animation of the two poems, his judge-
ment is right. There is in T^he Bard more
force, more thought, and more variety. But
to copy is'lefs than to invent, and the copy
has been unhappily produced at a wrong time.
The ficTion of Horace was to the Romans
credible; but its revival difgufbs us with
apparent and unconquerable falfehood. In-
credulus odi.

To felect a fingular event, and fwell it to
a giant's bulk by fabulous appendages of
fpectres and predictions, has little difficulty,
for he that forfakes the probable may always
find the marvellous. And it has little ufe; we
are affected only as we believe ; we are rm-

VOL. IV. H h proved

466 GRAY.

proved only as we find fomething to be imi-
tated or declined. I do not fee that 'The Bard
promotes any truth, moral or political.

His fbnzas are too long, efpecially his
epodes ; the ode is finimed before the ear
has learned its meafures, and confequently
before it can receive pleafure from their con-
fonance and recurrence.

Of the firft flanza the abrupt beginning
has been celebrated ; but technical beauties
can give praife only to the inventor. It is
in the power of any man to rum abruptly
upon his fubjecr,, that has read the ballad of
johnny Armjlrong,

Is there ever a man in all Scotland —

The initial refemblances, or alliterations,
r-ifin,- rutblefs, helm or hauberk, are below
the grandeur of a poem that endeavours at
fublimity.

In the fecond ftanza the Bard is well de-

-«, -

Tcribedj but in the third we have the pueri-
lities of obiblete mythology. When we are
told that Cadwallo huftidthejlortny main, and
that Mod red made b:igc Plinlimmon bow his
i cloud-

GRAY. 467

ckud-top'd heady attention recoils from the
repetition of a tale that, even when it was
firft heard, was heard with fcorn.

The weaving of the winding foeet he bor-
rowed, as he owns, from the northern Bards ;
but their texture, however, was very pro-
perly the work of female powers, as the art
of fpinning the thread of life in another my-
thology. Theft is always dangerous; Gray
has made weavers of his flaughtered bards,
by a fiction outrageous and incongruous.
They are then called upon to Weave the
warp, and weave the woof, perhaps with no
great propriety • for it is by croffing the
woof with the warp that men weave the web
or piece; and the firft line was dearly bought
by the admiflion of its wretched correfport-
dent, Give ample room and verge enough. He
has, however, no other line as bad*

The third ftanza of the fecond ternary is
commended, I think, beyond its merit. The
perfonification is indiftmft. Thirft and Hun-
ger are not alike ; and their features, to
make the imagery perfect, mould have been
difcriminated. We are told, in the fame

H h 2 ftanza,

4.68 G R A Y.

ftanza, how towers art fed. But I will no
longer look for particular faults ; yet let it be
obferved that the ode might have been con-
cluded with an action of better example; but
fuicide is always to be had, without expence
of thought.

Thefe odes are marked by glittering accu-
mulations of ungraceful ornaments •> they
ftrike, rather than pleafe ; the images are
magnified by affectation ; the language is
laboured into harfhnefs. The mind of the
writer feems to work with unnatural vio-
lence. Double, double y toll and trouble. He
has a kind of ftrutting dignity, and is tall by
walking on tiptoe. His art and his ftruggle
are too vifible, and there is too little appear-
ance of eafe and nature.

To fay that he has no beauties, would be
unjuft : a man like him, of great learning
and great induftry, could not but produce
fomething valuable. When he pleafes leaft,
it can only be faid that a good defign was ill
directed.

His translations of Northern and Wei ill
Poetry deferve praife ; the imagery is pre- ,

ferved,

GRAY. 469

ferved, perhaps often improved; but the lan-
guage is unlike the language of other poets.

In the character of his Elegy I rejoice to
concur with the common reader; for by the
common fenfe of readers uncorrupted with
literary prejudices, after all the refinements
of fubtilty and the dogmatifm of learning,
mufl be finally decided all claim to poetical
honours. The Church-yard abounds with
images which find a mirrour in every mind,
and with fentiments to which every bofom re-

turns an echo. The four fhmzas beginning
Yet even thefe bones, are to me original : I have
never feen the notions in any other place; yet
he that reads them here, perfuades himfelf
that he has always felt them. Had Gray
written often thus, it had been vain to blame,
and ufelefs to praife him.

Hh 7 LYTTEL-

[ 47*

LYTTELTON. i

EORGE LYTTELTON, the fon

of Sir Thomas Lytt/.ton of Hagley in
vVorceilerfhire, was bo,., 'n 1709. He was
educaied at Eton, where he was fo much
diflinguilhed, that his .xerciKs were recom-
mendeu as models to his fchool-fellows.

From Eton he went to Chrift-church,
where he retained the fame reputation of fu-
periority, and difpbyed his abilities to the
publick in a poem on Blenheim.

He was a very early writer, both in verfe
and profe. His Progrefs of Love, and his
Perfian Letters, were both written when he

was

L Y T T E L T O N. 471

was very young ; and, indeed, the character
of a young man is very vifible in both. The
Veries cant of fhepherds and flocks, and
crooks dreffed with flowers; and the Letters
have fomething of that indiftincl: and head-
ftrong ardour for liberty which a man of ge-
nius always catches when he enters the
world, and always fuffers to cool as he pafles
forward.

He ftaid not long at Oxford; for in 1728
he began his travels, and faw France and
Italy. When he returned, he obtained a feat
in parliament, and foon diftinguifhed himfelf
among the moft eager opponents of Sir
Robert Walpole, though his father, who
was Commiffioner of the Admiralty, always
voted with the Court.

For many years the name of George
Lyttelton was feen in every account of every
debate in the Houfe of Commons. He op-
pofed the {landing army ; he oppofed the ex-
cife ; he fupported the motion for petition-
ing the King to remove Walpole.- His zeal
was confidered by the courtiers not only as
violent, but as acrimonious arid' malignant ;

H h 4 and

472 L Y T T E L T O N.

and when Wai pole was at laft hunted from
his places, every effort was made by his
friends, and many friends he had, to exclude
Lyttelton from the Secret Committee.

The Prince of Wales, being (1737) driven
from St. James's, kept a feparate court, and
opened his arms to the opponents of the
miniftry. Mr. Lyttelton became his fecre-
tary, and was fuppofed to have great influ-
ence in the direction of his conduct. He
perfuaded his matter, whofe bufmefs it was
now to be popular, that he would advance
his character by patronage. Mallet was
made under- fecretary, with 200 /. andThom-
fon had a pennon of ioo/. a year. For
Thomibn Lyttelton always retained his
kindnefs, and was able at laft to place him
at eafe.

Moore courted his favour by an apologe-
tical poem, called ^ihe 'Trial of Selim, for
which he was paid with kind words, which,
as is common, raifed great hopes, that at laft
were difappointed,

Lyttelton

LYTTELTON. 473

Lyttelton now ftood in the firft rank of
oppofition; and Pope, who was incited, it is
not eafy to f;iy how, to increafe the clamour
againft the miniftiy, commended him among
the other patriots. This drew upon him the
reproaches of Fox, who, in the houfe, im-
puted to him as a crime his intimacy with a
lampooner fo unjuft and licentious. Lyttel-
ton fupported his friend, and replied, that
he thought it an honour to be received into
the familiarity of fo 'great a poet.

While he was thus confpicuous, he mar-
ried (1741) Mifs Lucy Fortefcue of Devon-
mire, by whom he had a fon, the late lord
Lyttelton, and two daughters, and with
whom he appears to have lived in the higheft
degree of connubial felicity : but human
pleafures are fliort; me died in childbed about
rive years afterwards, and he folaced his grief
by writing a long poem to her memory.

He did not however condemn himfelf to
perpetual folitude and forrow -, for, after a
while, he was content to leek happinefs
again by a fecond marriage with the daugh-
ter

474 LYTTELTO N.

ter of Sir Robert Rich; but the experiment
was unfuccefsful.

At length, after a long ftruggle, Walpole
gave wa-f, and honour and profit v/ere diftri-.
buted among his conquerors. Lyttelton was
made ( 1 744) one of the Lords of the Trea-
fury j and from that time was engaged in
fupporting the fchemes of the miniitry.

Politicks did not, however, fo much en-
gage him as to withhold his thoughts from
things of more importance. He had. in
the pride of juvenile confidence, with the
help of corrupt converfation, entertained
doubts of the truth of Chriftianity ; but he
thought the time now come when it was no
longer fit to doubt or believe by chance, and
applied himfelf ferioufiy to the great quef-
tion. His ftudies, being honeft, ended in
conviction. He found that religion was true,
and what he had learned he endeavoured to
teach (1747), by Obferyattons on the Conver-
fionof St. Paul; a treatife to which infidelity
has never been able to fabricate a fpecious
anfwer. This book his father had the hap-
pinefs of feeing, and expreffed his pleafure in
a letter which deferves to be infer ted.

" I have

LYTTELTON. 475

" I have read your religious treatife with
" infinite pleafure and fatisfa&ion. The ftyle
" is fine and clear, the arguments clofe, co-
•" gent, and irreiiftible. May the King of
" kings, whofe glorious caufe you have fo
" well defended, reward your pious labours,
ft and grant that I may be found worthy,
" through the merits of Jefus Chrift, to be
*' an eye-witnefs of that happinefs which I
" don't doubt he will bountifully beftow
" upon you. In the mean time, I {hall
" never ceafe glorifying God, for having en-
" dowed you with fuch ufeful talents, and
•" giving rne fo good a fon.

" Your affectionate father,

" THOMAS LYTTELTON."

A few years afterwards (1751), by the
death of his father, he inherited a baronet's
title with a large eflate, which, though per-
haps he did not augment, he was careful to
adorn, by a houfe of great elegance and ex-
pence, and by much attention to the decora-
tion of his park.

476 L Y T T E L T O N.

As he continued his activity in parlia-
ment, he was gradually advancing his claim
to profit and preferment ; and accordingly
WAS made in time (1754) cofferer and privy
counfellor : this place he exchanged next
year for the great office of chancellor of the
Exchequer j an office, however, that requir-
ed fome qualifications which he foon per-
ceived himfelf to want.

The year after, his curiofity led him into
Wales ; of which he has given an account,
perhaps rather with too much affectation of
delight, to Archibald Bower, a man of whom
he had conceived an opinion more favourable
than he feems to have deferved, and whom,
having once efpoufed his intereft and fame,
he never was perfuaded to difown. Bower,
whatever was his moral character, did not
want abilities ; attacked as he was by an uni-
verfal outcry, and that outcry, as it feems,
the echo of truth, he kept his ground ; at
laft, when his defences began to fail him, he
fallied out upon his adverfaries, and his ad-
verfaries retreated.

About

L Y T T E L T O N. 477

About this time Lyttelton published his
Dialogues of the Dead, which were very eager-
ly read, though the production rather, as it
feems, of leifure than of ftudy, rather effu-
fions than compofitions. The names of his
perfons too often enable the reader to anti-
cipate their converfation ; and when they
have met, they too often part without any
conclufion. He has copied Fenelon more
than Fontenelle.

When they were nril publifhed, they were
kindly commended by thz Critical Reviewer s-,
and poor Lyttelton, with humble gratitude,
returned, in a note which I have read, ac-
knowledgements which can never be proper^
fince they muft be paid either for flattery or
for juftice.

When, in the latter part of the lair, reign,
the inaufpicious commencement of the war
made the dillblution of the miniftry unavoid-
able, Sir George Lyttelton, loimg with the
reft his employment, was recompenfed with
a peerage ; and refted from political turbu-
lence in the Houfe of Lords.

2 His

478 LYTTELTON".

His laft literary production was his Hif-
tory of Henry the Second, elaborated by the
fearches and deliberations of twenty years,
and published with fuch anxiety as only va-
nity can dictate.

The ftory of this publication is remark-
able. The whole work was printed twice
over, a great part of it three times, and
many meets four or five times. The book-
fellers paid for the firfl impreffion ; but the
charges and repeated operations of the prefs
were at the expence of the author, whofe
ambitious accuracy is known to have coft
him at leaft a thoufand pounds. He began
to print in 1755. Three volumes appeared
in 1764, a fecond edition of them in 1767,
a third edition in 1768, and the conclufion
in 1771.

Andrew Reid, a man not without confi-
derable abilities, and not unacquainted with
letters or with life, undertook to perfuade
Lyttelton, as he had perfuaded himfelf, that
he was matter of the fecret of punctuation -,
and, as fear begets credulity, he was em-
ployed,

LYTT ELTON. 479

ployed, I know not at what price, to point
the pages of Henry the Second. The book
was at laft pointed and printed, and fent in-
to the world. Lyttelton took money for his
copy, of which, when he had paid the Poin-
ter, he probably gave the reft away ; for he
was very liberal to the indigent.

When time brought the Hiftory to a third
edition, Reid was either dead or difcarded ,
and the fuperintendence of typography and
punctuation was committed to a man ori-
ginally a comb-maker, but then known by
the ftyle of Doctor. Something uncommon
was probably expected, and fomething un-
common was at laft done; for to the Doc-
tor's edition is appended, what the world
had hardly feen before, a lilt of errors in
nineteen pages.

But to politicks and literature there mufl
be an end. Lord Lyttelton had never the
appearance of a ftrong or of a healthy man ;
he had a flender uncompacted frame, and a
meagre face: he lafted however fixty years,
and was then feized with his laft illnefs. Of
his death a very affecting and inftructive ac-
count

480 L Y T T E L T O N.

count has been given by his phyfician,
which will fpare rne the tafk of his moral
character.

" On Sunday evening the fymptoms of
his lordmip's diforder, which for a week
pail had alarmed us, put on a fatal ap-
pearance, and his lordfhip believed him-
felf to be a dying man. From this time
he fuffered by reftleflhefs rather than pain ;
though his nerves were apparently much
fluttered, his mental faculties never feem-
ed ftronger, when he was thoroughly
awake.

" His lordmip's bilious and hepatic com-
plaints feemed alone not equal to the ex-
pected mournful event; his long want of
lleep, whether the confequence of the irri-
tation in the bowels, or, which is more
probable, of caufes of a different kind, ac-
counts for his lofs of flrength, and for his
death, very fufficiently.

€(

Though his lordmip wifhed his ap-
proaching diiTolution not to be lingering,
" he waited for it with reiignation. He

" faid,

< (

L Y T T E L T O N. 481

" faid, * It is a folly, a keeping me in mi-
" fery, now to attempt to prolong life ;'
*' yet he was eafily perfuaded, for the fatif-
" faction of others, to do or take any thing
thought proper for him. On Saturday he
had been remarkably better, and we were
f< not without fomc hopes of his recovery.

" On Sunday, about eleven in the fore-
" noon, his lordfhip fent for me, and laid
" he felt a great hurry, and wifhed to have
" a little converfation with me in order to
" divert it. He then proceeded to open the
" fountain of that heart, from whence good-
" nefs had fo long flowed as from a copious
*'c fpring. ' Doctor,' laid he, ' you mail be
my confefibr: when I firft let out in the
world, I had friends who endeavoured to
make my belief in the Chriltian religion.
" I law difficulties which itaggered me; but
" I kept my mind open to conviction. The
•c evidences and doctrines of Christianity,
" ftuclied with attention, made me a molt
" firm and perfuaded believer of the Chrif-
" tian religion. I have made it the rule of
" my life, and it is chr ground of my fu-
" ture hopes. I ha\re erred and finned;
VOL. IV. I i " but

i e

< c

482 LYTTELT0 N.

" but have repented, and never indulged any
" vicious habit. In politicks, and publick
" life, I have made publick good the rule of
" my conduct. I never gave counfels which
" I did not at the time think the beft. I
<e have feen that I was fomctimes in the
" wrong, but I did not err defignedly. I
" have endeavoured, in private life, to do
te all the good in my power, and never for
" a moment could indulge malicious or un-
" juft defigns upon any perfon whatsoever.'

" At another time he faid, ' I muft leave
<l my foul in the fame ftate it was in before
" this illnefs; I find this a very inconvenient
*'• time for folicitude about any thing.'

" On the evening, when the fymptoms of
" death came on, he faid, * I mall die ;
but it will not be your fault.' When
lord and lady Valentia came to fee his lord-
fhip, he gave them his folemn benedic-
tion, and faid, * Be good, be virtuous,
my lord; you muft come to this.' Thus
: he continued giving his dying benediction
" to all around him. On Monday morning
'• a lucid interval gave fome fmall hopes,
3 " but

it
tt
ft
(t
tt

L Y T T E L T O N.

" but thefe vanished in the evening ; and he
" continued dying, but with very little un-
" ealinefs, till Tuefday morning, Auguft 22,
v< when between feven and eight o'clock he
*' expired, almoit without a groan."

His lordihip was buried at Hagley • and
the following infcription is cut on the fide of
his ladv's monument :

" This unadorned flone was placed here
By the particular defire and exprefs
diredlions of the Right Honourable

" GEORGE Lord LYTTELTOX,
Who died Auguft 22, 1773, aged 64."

I i a Lord

484 L Y T T E L T O N.

Lord Lyttelton's Poems are the works of
a man of literature and judgement, devoting
part of his time to verification. They have
nothing to be defpifed, and little to be ad-
mired. Of his Progress of Love, it is fuffi-
cient blame to fay that it is paftoral. His
blank verfe in Blenheim has neither much
force nor much elegance. His little per-
formances, whether Songs or Epigrams, are
fometimes fpritely, and fometimes iniipid.
His epistolary pieces have a fmooth equabi-
lity, which cannot much tire, becaufe they
are mort, but which feldom elevates or fir -
prizes. But from this cenfure ought to be
excepted his Advice to Belinda, which, though
for the moft part written when he was very
young, contains much truth and much pru-
dence, very elegantly and vigoroufly ex-
p relied, and mews a mind attentive to life,
and a power of poetry which cultivation
might have railed to excellence.

F I N I S,

t 485 ]

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JOHNSON'S JOHNSON'S

LIVES OF LIVES OF

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VOL. I. VOL, III.

JOHNSON'S JOHNS s

LIVES OF LIVES OF

THE POETS. THE POETS.

VOL. II. VOL. IV.

V- '

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